


Shadow of an Outlaw

by MustardGal



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Bisexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 94,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25986862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MustardGal/pseuds/MustardGal
Summary: The Blackwater heist failed.  The van der Lindes are on the run for their lives from the Pinkertons when they are overrun and they find themselves facing the worst case scenario: Dutch is killed.  In the chaos that ensues, the van der Linde gang splits from each other in order to survive.  Arthur, along with John, Abigail, and Jack, escape to the Ambarino mountains, where they happen to run into the Mrs. Adler. Confused and lost without Dutch, Arthur finds himself heading down a dark and dangerous path in order to find his way in the world.
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Arthur Morgan & Original Female Character(s), Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde, John Marston/Arthur Morgan, Sadie Adler/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 104
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

_Arthur_

There was a high pitched buzzing in Arthur Morgan’s right ear as he stirred against the cold wooden floor. Besides the buzzing, he heard the harsh wind and snow from the ongoing blizzard pounding against the tiny window high in the wall, dimly lit by a small lantern in the windowsill. 

He took a few moments to gather his surroundings. His right ear felt warm and ached slightly. There was a taste of iron as he licked his lips; blood had seeped from his ear and his throbbing nose. 

He remembered now. The past week had made him numb, only moving to keep his friends alive. He hadn’t wanted to think of what had happened, back at Blackwater. It was too painful to think of, too much bad blood. Traveling through Ambarino mountains, fighting snow, cold, and wolves had been his utmost focus. He hadn’t allowed himself to think of Blackwater, to think of Dutch. 

He had been scouting for food only a few hours ago, the way Charles had taught him in weeks past, only to run into an angry blizzard. In the midst of his confusion to get back to where he had left Abigail, John, and Jack, he had run into O’Driscolls who had had the upper hand on him. 

That’s right. They had knocked him senseless, and now his hands were tied behind his back, his head was splitting, and he was lying against a cold floor of a basement. He still wore his heavy jacket, the only item protecting him from the chill of the room. His weapons and belt were missing. He could hear men guffawing through the lit cracks in the ceiling above him, over the roar of the blizzard outside.  _ Shit. _

John was wounded. He wouldn’t be able to come help.  _ Shit. Goddammit, John. Curse you and your lousy, childish temperament- _

Someone sniffed in a corner, as if holding back a sob. Arthur twisted on the floor and peered in the darkness. “Who’s there?” he asked, his voice low. 

“None of your damn business.” A woman, and an angry one at that. 

Arthur awkwardly sat up, blinking harshly against the stars that danced across his vision. He scooted back against the wall and regarded his surroundings once more. The basement was clearly used for storage, complete with bookshelves and crates and old tools. His eyes settled on an old pitchfork, poorly shoved behind a shelf. 

He looked back to the woman hidden in the dark. His eyes had adjusted further, and he could make out that she was dressed in her night clothes and looked to be tied up as well. Another prisoner of the O’Driscolls. Most likely the resident of the house they were captive in.  _ Shit. _

“I ain’t no friend of theirs,” Arthur began, keeping his voice soft. “You can trust me, ma’am.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “They took my weapons, my guns. Besides that pitchfork there, do you know of any other weapons down here?”

“You’ll fight them?” she asked through a sob.   
“I sure ain’t gonna let them kill me.” Arthur started twisting his hands against the rope. It was snug, but not impossible to undo. “You injured at all, ma’am?”

He could see her look away. “No,” she huffed out. “But they killed… they killed my husband, Jake. They done-” she stopped and bit her lip. “They tied me to this bookshelf here. I can’t seem to get it undone.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. We gonna get out of here. How many are there?”

“At least six, if not a few more.”

Not a good number whatsoever. 

“There’s an old rifle, buried in that crate there. I haven’t been able to get to it.” The woman motioned her head toward a wooden crate covered by heavy blankets. “Should have some bullets, too.”

“Good enough.” Arthur was about to stand until footsteps pounded on the floor above him, headed towards the door of the basement. He settled against the wall and leveled a stern glare at whoever it was who opened the door. 

A dark cloaked man shuffled in, followed by another dressed similarly. Arthur didn’t know them, but they were exactly like every O’Driscoll, with slimy, unkempt appearances and similar dark jackets. 

“Arthur Morgan, pleased to see you awake,” the oldest one said. “Colm will be pleased.”

“You gonna take me to your daddy?” Arthur said. He sat up straighter as he slipped a hand from his bindings, trying not to make it obvious. “Or is your daddy gonna come pay me a visit?”

“We’ll deal with you later,” the O’Driscoll said. “We here for the lady, now.”

Arthur’s heart dropped in his chest as the two men made their way to the corner where the woman screamed at them to stay back. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that had already been done to her - black clouded his vision as he tried to figure out what to do. Each of the men had a pistol at their hip; it was a small room and even an O’Driscoll wouldn’t miss in this close range. 

_ Shit, shit, shit. _ Arthur looked down to his boot, dawning on him he had snuck a small pocket knife in the hidden pocket, sewn into the lining of his boot, and risked sneaking a hand down the leathered boot. Once his fingers brushed the wooden hilt, he breathed a silent sigh in quiet victory. It was a short blade, and a bit dull, but it was his quickest way to a weapon. After escaping Blackwater, he had stocked up on weapons to carry, and this pocket knife had been put in his boot as an afterthought. 

The two men were distracted trying to pick the lady up, who was kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. They didn’t notice as Arthur stood, tiny pocket knife in hand. He took three long strides and pulled on one of the man’s coats by the neckline, yanked the man back and stabbed him multiple times in the neck, blood spurting. 

In the midst of this the other O’Driscoll noticed and dropped his hold on the woman and was rushing to draw his pistol. The screaming woman was quick to kick him between the legs, knocking him off balance. Arthur pushed the pistol away and kneed the man in the stomach, causing him to double over. Arthur twisted the pistol out of the man’s hand, pushed the man around to face the wall, and smashed the man’s face against it. After a few bone crunching whacks, he dropped the man to the floor, the man landing in a crumpled heap.

Arthur grabbed the pistol and helped the woman stand up. “You know how to shoot?” he said in the midst of untying her hands. “There was a chance they heard that.” 

Once her hands were freed, she leaned down and grabbed the other man’s weapon, her blond hair tumbling over her shoulders wildly. “I know how to shoot.” Her eyes were menacing in the dim lantern light. “Let’s go.” 

Arthur stopped her from running up the stairs. “Let me lead,” he said quietly. “We ain’t gonna go barging in there. They have the advantage.”

She glared daggers at him. “Fine.”

Arthur bristled at her glare. She was terrifying and it made him glad he wasn’t the one facing her vengeance. “Let’s go.” 

They made their way quietly up the stairs, listening for any movement. The blizzard was still raging outside, hopefully hiding their recent scuffle. “You take left, I’ll go right,” Arthur murmured to her. He gave it another second before he opened the door wide. Two O’Driscolls stood by the fireplace on the right side of the room, their backs turned. Arthur didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger, one after another, and the two men topped to the ground. 

The woman downed a man coming from upstairs with precise aim; Arthur wouldn’t have expected that from a housewife. Clearly there was more to this woman. She ran over to a pile of guns and pulled out a scoped rifle, then ran for the front door. Arthur was on her heels. 

It was dark outside, the snow raging and pelting in all different directions. The woman’s nightgown billowed harshly in the wind as she took a few firm steps into the snow. One lantern was lit by the stable, and they made out two men pulling horses from the building, on their way to make an escape.

“I don’t think so, bastards,” the woman said and brought up the rifle to her shoulder. The dark forms began to blend in with the snow, but that didn’t seem to bother her. She shot once, twice - and then men dropped dead from their horses. 

“Nicely done,” Arthur said, a bit awed. 

She ignored the compliment. “That should be all of them. They ain’t gonna take anymore from me.” She stomped toward her house - her feet bare in the snow - and yanked open the front door. “You welcome to stay here, mister, for the night. The blizzard might last a few days.” 

Arthur followed her inside and shut the door silently behind him. The woman was already furiously at work. She began picking up the books, papers, cans, and other miscellaneous items that had been shoved to the ground. Without a word Arthur set to work dragging the bodies out, far away from the house. There was no easy way to get rid of the bodies and it was too cold to dig any sort of grave. He’d have to figure it out later, but at least the bodies would be out of the woman’s home.

Hours passed as the woman kept cleaning, scrubbing the pools of blood out of the floorboards. She had changed into dark pants and a blue shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy bun as she scrubbed the floor, venting her anger against the floorboards. She basically ignored Arthur as she moved.

Arthur helped with what he could, such as sorting out the horses and setting them up in the stable. His own horse, Athena, had been brought along as well. He was happy to see the brindle arabian horse safe. She was the fastest horse he had owned so far, one of the best, and he would have hated losing her. 

As he was headed back to the house, he passed a wagon with a heavy blanket over the top. He paused and lifted back the blanket, shoving off a thick layer of snow, and held the lantern closer to examine the contents. It was covering a body, at least a few days old. He wasn’t dressed as an O’Driscoll.  _ Shit.  _ This must be the woman’s husband. 

Arthur made his way into the house, his hat in his hands. He set the lantern aside. “Ma’am-” 

She was kneeling on the floor and wringing out a bloody rag into a bucket. “Yes?” 

“Ma’am…”

“It’s Sadie. Sadie Adler.”

“Mrs. Adler, then. I think I found your husband, outside in a wagon. Come the next clear day, I’ll help you bury him. Proper. I am… sorry for your loss.”

Sadie’s stern face softened. She tossed the rag on the rim of the bucket and exhaustion seeped into her shoulders as she leaned forward. She held a hand over her stomach and let out a sob. “They killed him,” she said tightly. “The first night they were here. We were sleepin’, took us by surprise. He didn’t deserve this. I need, I need to see him…” she began to stand, a bit wobbly. 

Arthur stepped forward to help her up.

“Stay back!” she growled at him as she righted herself. “I don’t need your goddamn help.”

“No, but you need to get some sleep. I’ll stay up, take watch. You’re exhausted, it’s clear. I know what you been through. The O’Driscolls are a sick bunch. But I need you to go get some rest, Mrs. Adler. There’s a blizzard and no point in you headin’ out to see your husband.”

Sadie held her arms around her stomach. She was trembling and pale as she considered his words. She finally nodded and went to the bedroom and shut the door behind her without another word. 

Arthur set to work. He finished the scrubbing in the living room and in the basement. He picked up the trash and gathered firewood. He would ask Sadie if he could take some of her medical supplies he found; John was in desperate need. This blizzard certainly wasn’t helping his case. He hoped John would still be alive by the time he got back. The makeshift shack he had left them in wasn’t much against the snow and the cold, but he had built a fire for them before he had left. There hadn’t been much for good firewood, and surely they were out by now. 

Even if there was a blizzard tomorrow, he’d have to go back. They wouldn’t last much longer.

In the quiet morning hours, he sat down on the small couch, a rifle in hand. There was cause to worry the O’Driscolls would come back, but he highly doubted it. That gang was known for its large numbers and Colm didn’t care if his men died. He could always recruit more. Whether or not Colm knew Arthur had been captured, that was questionable. But he doubted that, too, since the men would have waited for the blizzard to die out. 

As he sat in front of the fireplace, the hours drifted by and the wind eventually settled down. Sun broke through the windows, breaking him out of his thoughts. That was a good sign the blizzard had run its course. Arthur stood from the couch and stretched, his knees popping as he headed outside. 

He’d fix the Mrs. Adler some breakfast. It would be simple, as he wasn’t much of a cook, but eggs were easy. He had spotted a chicken coop late last night. As he stepped outside, he blinked harshly against the glare off the fresh snow, easily up to his knees. It would be slow travel through the mountain to get back to John and the others. But it had to be done.

He made quick work of grabbing eggs and cooking them in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette as he moved throughout the house. He had found some bread, a few days old, and some butter. He also brewed some coffee and had everything set on the table by the time Sadie walked out of her bedroom, eyes puffy and red. She was dressed in fresh working clothes with her hair pulled back. 

Arthur had heard her sobs late in the night. He doubted she had slept. “Eat,” he said simply. “I don’t care if you ain’t hungry. Eat.”

She pulled back a chair and sat down without a word. In the morning light, Arthur could see she had a dash of freckles on her face and a tiny scar on her eyebrow. She was maybe a few years younger than him. She was tough, too, he could see that. Had to be, if she lived out in the middle of nowhere.

Arthur snuffed out the cigarette and tossed it in a small jar of old cigarette butts near the kitchen window. “I have a request. I got some friends out there. One’s hurt pretty bad. They got no food and I had been out huntin’ before I got caught. I gotta go to them. Can I use your medical supplies? Just need some alcohol and proper bandages. And your needle and thread, if you please.”

“Sure. I owe you,” Sadie said. She took a large bite of her bread. “How many people are there?”

“John, and his wife Abigail, and their son Jack. He’s five. I left them in a shack just up the mountain-”

“I know what you talkin’ about. That ain’t much for shelter,” Sadie said, eyeing him strangely. She stood up, the chair scraping behind her. She dusted off her hands and went over to the door where a thick jacket hung on a peg. “Let’s bring them here. I ain’t gonna let no woman and her child freeze to death.” She shrugged on the jacket and pulled down a scarf. 

Arthur followed her out, medical supplies in hand. “You don’t have to come-”

“This is me payin’ you back for savin’ my life. Don’t-” she stopped by the wagon and froze. “I…” she held a hand over her mouth. She wandered over and placed a hand on top of the blanket. “I’ll come back for you,” she whispered after a few moments. She furiously wiped away a tear and marched toward the stables, stomping through the snow. 

“You said they were O’Driscolls?” she demanded at Arthur as they saddled up their horses.

“Yes. A gang led by a man named Colm O’Driscoll.”

Sadie was silent with her thoughts. Arthur didn’t prod, but he could see the venom on her furious face. 

She didn’t speak until they were mounted on their horses and headed deep into the trees, a mass of snow surrounding them. She had also packed thick heavy blankets on the horses, and they brought two extra horses in case one of John’s or Abigail’s horses had taken off. “I know the way. Follow me,” she said.

Arthur did. He had ignored the worry, but now it settled and twisted in his stomach.  _ Please be alive, John, Abigail, Jack. We’re coming for you. _


	2. Chapter 2

_ Arthur  _

Several hours of trekking through the thick snow, they finally came across the old shack halfway buried. It had stood upright in the harsh wind, but barely. Arthur was off his horse and dredging through the snow. “John! Abigail! Jack!” he was shouting as he made his way to the shack. Sadie hovered back as she gathered the blankets from the horses.

Arthur shoved open the door with a grunt and saw the three forms huddled against the wall, wrapped in their blankets. A dying fire fizzled by the doorway. Abigail stirred and shot up from where she slept and pushed the blankets aside. “Arthur!” 

Arthur stepped forward and lifted her up in a bear hug. “You are mighty cold,” he said as he pulled away. Abigail shivered, her jacket and shawl only providing so much against the cold. Arthur looked down and found Jack peering up at him through the blankets, nose red and dripping with snot. “Are you three alright?” 

“John’s in pain,” Abigail said worriedly. Dark bags lingered under her eyes; she was exhausted to the bone. “He’s got a fever, Arthur, and his leg is swellin’ something fierce.”

Arthur went over to John, who was practically buried in the heaviest of blankets, and placed a hand over the man’s bandaged forehead. Sure enough, he was burning. John took a deep breath and stirred; he was awake, at least. “We’ll take you back.”

“We?” Abigail questioned.

“I ran into O’Driscolls. Thought I’d be back sooner, but they kinda stopped that. Ran into Mrs. Adler, here, she’s outside. She has a warm home a few hours away. You three alright for traveling?”

“Yes. Let’s go.” Abigail kneeled down and picked up her bags. “Come on, Jack. Let’s go say hi to the Mrs. Adler.”

Arthur nudged John in the meanwhile. “Can you walk?” he asked the younger man.

Even in his weak state, John glared at him. “I can try.” 

Arthur leaned down and helped him sit up. John’s face had been torn to shreds by a pack of wolves, and his leg had taken a nasty gash as well. However John had survived this far, Arthur had no idea. But he had been so angry at the man for wandering off like that - no, now wasn’t the time to think of the argument they had only a few days ago. He’d tear John a new one once he was better.

John had always been a skinny guy. Arthur had no trouble picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder. He left the shack and went to his own horse and helped John up into the saddle. 

Sadie and Abigail were tying the rest of their bags to the horses. Both John’s and Abigail’s horses had run off in the blizzard, making Arthur grateful they had thought to bring extra horses. He swung up into the saddle behind John - the man was at risk of falling over on his own - and clicked his tongue to alert Athena to start moving. 

The sky stayed clear as they traveled back, the sun bright against the snow. The past few weeks of traveling in the snow had all but killed any love Arthur had for the element. He didn’t use to mind it, but now that the snow was cumbersome, he hated it. He wasn’t going to miss it when they left… wherever that would be, depending on Mrs. Adler’s hospitality. 

Besides, he didn’t want to leave her up in the mountain by herself. She was strong, no doubt about that. But since she had just lost her husband, she was in mourning - the loneliness could easily get to her. Having Abigail should help. 

“We… I only have one bed,” Sadie was saying as they approached the houses. “You and little Jack there can have it. John here can rest on the couch. We’ll get his clothes changed and his wounds treated.”

“Do you know how to treat him?” Abigail asked her.

“No, but I can sure help.” 

Once they reached the house, Arthur carried John into the living room and put him on the couch. John had slipped into a groggy and delirious state, which was worrisome. Abigail set to work undressing John out his wet clothes while Sadie began making tea and boiling hot water. Jack instantly fell asleep on the floor by the fire, his cheeks still rosy from the cold. Arthur put a blanket over him and brushed back his hair. He hated dragging the little boy on adventures like this. Jack deserved a proper upbringing - but that had always been denied for him. 

Arthur excused himself from the house and went to put the horses away. He made sure they had enough feed and water, then went to check on everything else Sadie had on her land. Chickens, but that was about it. Judging from how new the building looked, they had only lived here a few years, if that. In the summertime, he figured it must be a beautiful place. But with the wild animals, the nearest town so far away - he had to wonder their intentions for moving so far. Maybe they wanted to escape society. He couldn’t blame them, really. He tried to escape society ever since he became an outlaw. 

As he wandered around behind the main house, the snow crunching against his feet, he wondered if he should begin digging the grave for Jake. It all really depended on what the Mrs. Adler wanted. He paused, a dark wooden crossing peeking through the snow. He walked over slowly and dusted off the wood. There wasn’t any name written on it, but clearly, someone they had loved had died. 

That settled it, then. He picked a spot close to the grave and went to grab a shovel from the barn. He wouldn’t have much time before it became dark; he set right to work and began pushing away the snow. The snow was the easy part. It was digging into the frozen ground that zapped all his strength. Yet he dug at the snow for hours, until the sun set and the moon settled over the trees. 

Sadie had come and gone with a lantern and a small thank you. She seemed to approve of the spot he had picked, and a few minutes later, she showed up with a small shovel of her own. Together they worked in silence as they dug a hole deep into the ground, fighting against the unforgiving ground. Abigail made her way out and made sure they had a cup of coffee to keep them warm. 

Arthur didn’t know why he cared so much. Maybe it was for the fact he hadn’t been able to bury his loved ones - they’d been left behind. Maybe it was for the fact he felt sorry for the Mrs. Adler. She clearly hadn’t deserved this. This all but fueled his anger against the O’Driscolls. They needed to be stopped, but Colm wouldn’t anytime soon.

There was so much more for him to be angry at. Dutch, for one. Just the thought of him made him slip on a strip of mud and made him pause. He stuck the shovel in the ground and leaned on it, catching his breath. He’d never - he had been doing his best to block out the events of Blackwater, the shitshow that it had been. He’d tried to forget the utter chaos none of them had expected. 

He continued shoveling, burying his thoughts more. He’d mourn later. Right now, his vision was getting blurred from the lack of sleep and his limbs were protesting with each movement, and there was a bit more work to do.

When the hole was deep enough, Arthur went to prepare the late Mr. Adler for burial. He found the man already wrapped in blankets; Abigail had taken it upon herself to help in some small way. She had wrapped him tightly, leaving the fabric loose around the face so Sadie could take one last look at him. 

He let Sadie be alone with her husband. He could hear her sobs and words as she said her final goodbyes as she sat next to her husband in the wagon. In the meantime, he checked on John, his wounds freshly cleaned and poorly sewn shut. No matter what, John’s baby face would be scarred over for life. They’d be something to brag about, maybe even laugh about, down the road. 

Jack had been carried to the bed and still slept the night away. Abigail stopped by Arthur in the doorway, her eyes soft as she gazed at her sleeping son. 

“He’ll be alright,” she said quietly, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “He’s worried about John.” 

“John will be alright too,” Arthur said. “He always managed to pull out of scrapes tougher than this.”

Abigail put a hand on Arthur’s arm. “You need to get some rest, Arthur. You been workin’ non stop. Your face is smudged with blood, even.”

Arthur lifted a hand to his bearded face in shock. He had clean forgotten about being knocked senseless the other night. How long had he been awake, anyhow? Abigail grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the small dinner table and made him sit. She moved about quietly as she poured warm water into a bin, then grabbed a small rag.

She used the rag to wipe off the bloodstains on his face, the warm water a blessing against his chilled face. Arthur looked off into the distance, thoughts blank as he accepted the help from Abigail. Eventually, he heard a snore from John and a rush of old emotions came over him.

“You’ve been too good for him,” Arthur murmured.

Abigail paused and pulled the rag away. “Wipe that glare off your face, Arthur. You know he’s tryin’.” Once Arthur flicked his eyes to the floor, she continued dabbing at the crusted blood. “We have all been trying.”

That fool Marston. He had always run from responsibility, had run from being a father, a husband - not that he actually was one. It’d take a miracle for John to actually settle down and be married. Now wasn’t the time. Little Johnny wouldn’t learn from this, and Arthur hated seeing Abigail continue to be swept off her feet by him.

“I shoulda married you,” Arthur said in the quietest voice he could muster. “He don’t know what he has.”

Abigail pulled away the rag from his cheek and dunked it in the warm water. “And I appreciated the offer, back then- I did. It just ain’t right. Especially right now.” 

Just then they heard Mrs. Adler clear her throat from the doorway. Arthur looked over, wondering how much the woman had overheard. He didn’t think too much of it. “Are you ready, Mrs. Adler?”

Sadie gave a silent nod. Arthur and Abigail followed her out of the house to the wagon where her husband laid. It was unclear how late or early it was - the forest around them was hidden in the dark, as were the stars. It was still bitter cold, but at least the snow had held off.

Arthur made sure the blankets were wrapped tight as he picked up the dead man - very stiff and cold to the touch - and carried him awkwardly to the grave, the pathway in the snow clearly pressed to the side. It took a bit of maneuvering to get the Mr. Adler into the grave, but once the man was laid on the ground, blankets tucked around him, Arthur hopped out of the grave and took a few steps back to give Mrs. Adler space.

She knelt by the grave and scooped up a small handful of dirt. She was silent for a few moments before she said, “He was a good man. One of the best. This life was our dream, and now… I don’t know how to continue on without him.” 

Before Arthur or Abigail could respond, Sadie continued, “I’ll bury him. This is my last chance to say goodbye. You two go inside. Let me be, please.”

Arthur was about to protest but Abigail tugged on his sleeve. “Of course, Mrs. Adler. I’ll check on you in a bit. Come on, Arthur, let’s get inside. You need to rest .”

Arthur let himself be dragged inside and practically shoved to the ground in front of John’s couch, a pallet made out of mismatched blankets and pillows. The fireplace cackled before him, a warm blanket of its own. As Abigail walked away, Arthur said lightly, “We didn’t even hold a funeral for Dutch.”

“We been on the run since Blackwater, Arthur. We haven’t had the chance. We’ll have one, soon, once we on our feet again. Get some sleep, Arthur.”

Arthur didn’t have to be told twice. He set aside his hat and was out before his head hit the pillow, dreams of Dutch not far away.

When he awoke the next morning, or whatever time it was, he couldn’t tell - he grabbed his hat and shoved it over his face, blocking out the sunlight. Dreams or nightmares of Dutch had plagued him - Arthur hadn’t been on the ferry, hadn’t been there at Dutch’s last moments. He hadn’t believed Dutch had taken a simple civilian woman hostage and shot her point blank. Not an innocent woman. That’s not what Dutch believed in - or had it been? 

He’d seen Dutch dip into madness before. He’d ignored it. Hell, Arthur had dipped into madness himself several times. But he’d never killed an innocent. Never. Even if it meant saving his own hide. 

During the Blackwater ferry, Arthur and Hosea had been away on their own job. They had to abandon it once they realized the Pinkertons and the lawmen were on their trail. That’s when his dreams had turned to nightmares - remembering the night the Pinkertons invaded their camp, a shitshow in it’s own right - Hosea and Lenny, gathering the women and sending them off in the darkness with a promise to regroup at a later time.

Bill, Micah, Javier, Dutch, Arthur, John, Charles, Sean, Lenny - all holding back the Pinkertons so their camp could disperse. The night was filled with the smells of gunpowder and blood. Screams from the women, curses from Miss Grimshaw, and cries from little Jack echoed in Arthur’s memories. There was a reason the van der Linde gang stayed alive that night: they were damn good gunslingers. The Pinkertons never had a chance against them.

The night had almost been won, except… a stray bullet had caught Dutch square in the back. Arthur had been the one to catch Dutch as he fell, confused as to where the bullet had come from. There hadn’t been anyone behind them, except members of their own gang. The blood had poured over Arthur’s hands, onto his clothing, and it never seemed to stop as he lowered Dutch to the ground, the older man’s eyes glazed over with the cold grasp of death. 

Hosea had been the one to drag him away from Dutch’s body, bleeding out in the dirt. Hosea’s words fell on deaf ears as Arthur hopped on Athena and galloped after Hosea. Arthur wasn’t too sure how everyone split up. All he had known is that John appeared at his side with Abigail and Jack, and they were cutting through thick forests and streams, trying to lose their trail.

Hosea, along with Lenny, split up with them with a promise to meet near Valentine at the start of Spring. Arthur didn’t know how anyone else split up. They were just gone. And just like that, the van der Linde gang ceased to exist.

And now Arthur was currently in Ambarino, stuck in a woman’s cottage who suffered at the hands of the O’Driscolls. He had no word of who survived that night, of who went where, or what happened to the women. Karen had fired a few shots that night, that’s all Arthur knew. He hoped she, Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Miss Grimshaw, escaped without any trouble. Maybe they took Uncle and Pearson with them. 

It was hard to say. Come spring, he hoped to find out. 

Maybe all of this had happened because of Dutch. Because he’d slipped and harmed someone undeserving. 

Arthur shuddered, despite the warmth of the fire and the blankets. All it took was a bad job and their entire world went to shit. 

“Uncle Arthur!” he heard Jack say from above him. 

Arthur pushed back his hat and blinked blearily up at the child. Jack stood with a grin, bundled up heavily in a thick jacket and scarf too large for him. He hadn’t seen the kid smile in a few weeks now. That was an improvement. “Good mornin, Jack. How you doing?”

“I’m feeling better,” the kid responded cheerfully. “Mama said I could go do snow angels after breakfast. Do you wanna go?”

Arthur chuckled and started to sit up. His back was stiff as he leaned against the couch. He was used to sleeping on hard floors, but his body still protested against it. “Ain’t you tired of the snow yet?”

“Well…” Jack looked out the window near the front door. “It’s isn’t often I get to  _ play _ in the snow. Come on, Uncle Arthur, please!”

“Let the man eat first!” Abigail said from the kitchen area. “Come on, Arthur, your breakfast is getting cold.”

Arthur wearily got to his feet and peered over to John, who lay awake on the couch with a frown on his battered face. “You doin’ okay, John?”  
“Been better,” was the reply. 

Arthur patted the man lightly on the shoulder and made his way to the table. “Where’s Mrs. Adler?” he asked casually as he sat down, his stomach grumbling at the sight of the eggs, bacon, and toasted bread on the table. He dished himself up a plate.

“She came in late last night. She buried him all by herself. I expect she’ll be sleepin’ for awhile now.” Abigail sat in the chair next to Arthur and sipped her cup of coffee. “What do you expect we do now, Arthur?”

“I ain’t got a clue,” Arthur said after he swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “I expect we travel east, maybe, to get farther away. But I don’t wanna stray too far, if we gotta meet in Valentine. I honestly don’t know, Abigail. We ain’t got a place to stay, now. We ain’t even got the supplies for outdoor living. I ain’t got much for cash, either.”

Abigail nodded her head softly. “I suppose we can ask the Mrs. Adler if we can stay longer.”

“That’s our best hope, but I don’t wanna intrude, neither.”

The door opened from the main bedroom and Sadie stepped out, dressed in a simple grey shirt and brown skirt. She wrapped a shawl over her shoulders and had tied her hair in a messy side braid. “You ain’t. You folks can stay here until you get back on your feet.” 

Arthur was quick to notice the all too puffy eyes, dark bags, and red cheeks. She hadn’t slept a wink again. “We hate to impose-”

“It’s not,” Sadie snapped at him. Her eyes softened a little as she looked away. “I need to find my purpose. Just - you have an injured man and a young boy to think of. I got no money to spare. Just my house. I only ask, in return, you help with the chores and the hunting. I ain’t used to living with other people other than my husband, but I ain’t gonna kick you out, either. Jake wouldn’t,” she ended softly. 

“I’ll go hunting after I clean myself up.” Arthur scratched his neck. It desperately needed a shave, and he hadn’t bathed in weeks. “We’ll make sure to earn our keep, Mrs. Adler.”

“Good. And, thank you, for what you done for Jake.”

“Sure.” 

Sadie disappeared back into her room and shut the door behind her. 

“Does that mean you won’t go do snow angels with me?” Jack asked from the doorway, his smile gone. 

Arthur shared a glance with Abigail and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He stood up and set the napkin aside. “Why, I suppose I got some time with you yet. Lead the way, Jack.”

As Arthur started to close the front door, his eyes settled on John laying on the couch. The man was wide awake and glowering at him, his eyes dark and full of spite. Not once could Arthur recall John trying to play with Jack, whether it be snow angels, fishing, or simply conversing. The man had outright refused Jack was his son, yet the glare on John’s face said it all. In his own way, John did care for the boy. He just didn’t know how to show it, and frankly, Arthur was tired of waiting for John to man up. 

“The boy deserves a father,” Arthur said to John, quiet enough so Jack couldn’t overhear. “We’re all waitin’ for you to be one. And don’t use your wounds as an excuse, John. It matters now more than ever.” Arthur shut the door and followed the laughing Jack out into the forest. He then realized it hadn’t been spite in John’s eyes - it was jealousy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated tags.


	3. Chapter 3

_John_

Arthur left that afternoon on a hunting trip, leaving John alone with the women. John didn’t mind that so much; it was mostly the fact he was practically useless. His face ached something terrible and whatever salve Abigail rubbed on his face only took away a small portion of the pain. He struggled to walk on his leg - that wolf he had run into had nearly taken a big chunk. A nasty scar would remain, to be sure. Hell, he didn’t even want to think what his face would look like once the stitches were out. His face would now be easily recognizable anywhere.

He regretted running away that night. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been chased and nearly killed by wolves. He would’ve been able to help Arthur escort Abigail and Jack through the snowy mountain. But no. John had only made it worse.

It had been late at night---

_A few days ago_

A few nights had passed since they’d left Dutch bleeding out on the ground, ending their gang for good. John still couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe the man who practically raised him was dead, just like that. It was hard to believe and every instinct he had told him to turn right round and rescue Dutch. 

One of the nights as they ran away from Dutch and the Pinkertons, they sought refuge at a small rocky overhang. Straight away Arthur set to work building a fire, having gathered wood as they traveled. They had entered the Ambarino mountains, currently doused in a white onslaught of snow. It would be a struggle to find firewood the farther they traveled, and like usual, Arthur had been planning ahead.

John dropped his bag - they only salvaged one, but it was only full of spare clothing - and gripped his hands into fists. “We have to go back,” John said to Arthur. A light snow had begun to fall, the moon hiding behind the clouds. “It’s been too many days.”

“Dutch is dead, John,” Arthur said, his voice stern. He kept building a fire, ignoring John’s words. He snapped a twig in half and looked away from John’s glare. The larger man had dressed warmly in his blue, fur lined jacket, and kept his hat low. He was preparing them for the escape into the mountains and had made sure all of them had the appropriate clothing. Arthur had disappeared one night and had returned with several jackets and blankets; probably having robbed a nearby homestead. Abigail sat on one of the blankets currently and pulled an exhausted Jack to her lap, huddling together for warmth. She’d barely said a word since that night. 

“How do you know that?”

Arthur lit a match and held it into the kindling. “Like I said before. He got shot. He stopped breathing, John, when I left him. I was gettin’ shot at. I couldn’t take him with me. I’d be dead if I had stayed with him.”

“But you don’t know,” John argued. “You left him behind!”

Arthur was silent as he moved several sticks around and the flames caught on. Once the fire grew to a decent size, he leaned back and rubbed his chin as he seemed to consider John’s words. “I ain’t one for leaving folks behind, especially Dutch. But even Hosea left him, John. He was _dead_.” 

John could tell Arthur was upset, but he ignored it. “Dutch wouldn’t want us scourging around like this. I say we head back down and group up and-”

“And what? How are you gonna get the word out to the others, John? Everybody scattered. I don’t even know if it was the Pinkertons who shot him.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Arthur stood up and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a cigarette. “Dutch was shot in the back. That’s mighty suspicious. We was winning, John. We had them.”

“You aren’t saying…”

“That one of our own betrayed us?” Arthur took a deep puff of his cigarette. “Maybe. Just maybe.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna sit around here and cry. I’m going back, Arthur, and I’m rescuing Dutch.” John put his bag back on his horse’s saddle and hoisted himself up. 

Like John knew Arthur would, Arthur was quick to protest. “We don’t know where anyone is! You can’t leave Abigail and Jack here!”

“You’ll take care of them like you always do,” John spat at the man. “I’m going to go save the man who raised us, Arthur, whether you like it or not.” He kicked in his heels to the horse and was off, trampling down the mountain path through the snow, the protests of Arthur quickly dying out.

John knew there was a small chance he was right. There hadn’t been many Pinkertons or lawmen leftover - John could take out the rest himself. They’d have Dutch locked up in a wagon somewhere, probably headed back to Blackwater. They wouldn’t want the gang leader dead. Maybe John would run into Charles or Bill along the way. There was no way the gang wouldn’t go back for Dutch. No way.

Arthur would take care of Abigail and Jack for him. He could at least depend on that. Besides, that’s all that Arthur ever wanted, right? A damn family. John had seen the way Arthur treated Jack like a son. Hell, he did it so much better than John ever could. Just like Arthur was better at everything. It frustrated John to no end.

He traveled hard, hoping he could get down the mountain to some dry land to make a quick little camp. He’d only rest for a few hours before traveling again. At some point, he was betting to run into the Pinkertons, which is really what he wanted. He needed some sort of vengeance against them.

When the snow on the ground thinned and the falling snow turned to rain, John made camp underneath a thick canopy of trees just off the road. He set out his bedroll and didn’t bother with a fire. He didn’t want anyone to know he was camping there for the time being. 

But the last few days had been tiring, and he fell asleep on his bed roll within a span of a few minutes. 

Howls woke him up in the dead of night. _Wolves_ . He shot up to his feet, his body stiff with cold, and heard the low growling from the darkness of the trees. Without light, he didn’t know where they were coming from, but was sure they were surrounding him. _Shit._ John’s horse was spooked to the high heavens; he ran to the horse and they were off, galloping somewhere along the mountainside.

John didn’t care to see where he was going. He let the horse take the lead as he readied his pistol, the snarling wolves now at their heels. _Shit._ It was too dark to do this. John shot at a blurry white form by his ankle; a wounded cry sounded off. John didn’t have time to cheer as his horse tripped when a wolf nipped at his legs; John was shot forward from the saddle and landed painfully on his side, the air getting shocked out of him. 

His gun fell near him on the ground. He crawled toward it in haste, the wolves surrounding him and his horse long gone. He would make an easy target for these wolves. He could tell they were waiting for him to bolt - it was just a game to them, really. A dangerous one.

John picked up his gun and pulled the trigger at one wolf; it dropped dead, the shot landing in its skull. But he wasn’t fast enough as one wolf jumped on his shoulders and pinned him down while another bit and pulled at his leg. He screamed in pain as he tried to fend off the wolf biting at his face - he could feel the blood seeping down from the claws that scraped deep; his arms were starting to be ripped to shreds by the wolf’s teeth.

And then the wolf fell limp on him and his leg stopped being pulled. Two gunshots echoed against the rocky hillside and he was breathless as the heavy animal crushed his windpipe.

“You fool!” Arthur roared and yanked off the wolf on top of him. “You damn fool! You don’t listen, you goddamn idiot!” 

“You didn’t have to-” John huffed out, tasting the blood on his lips, “Abigail-”

“She’s scared to death as it is!” Arthur was rummaging around in his pack; he grabbed a cloth and set to work wrapping it around John’s head. “This is what you get for bein’ a hero, John. Dutch is dead. He died in my arms.” Arthur’s voice cracked as he quickly bandaged up John’s wounds. “Don’t you leave me too, goddammit.”

John was too weak to argue with him this time. He must have lost consciousness along the way, because he woke up in a partially lit room with Abigail staring down at him, tears in her eyes. She’d been crying a long time, considering how red faced and puffy her eyes were. 

“Abigail,” he said weakly. “Where-?”

“Arthur found this little shack. He’s off to get some food for us. Oh, John, you scared me. Don’t you go runnin’ off again, you hear?” It was less of a demand and more of a sobbing plea. 

“Dutch is dead?” John finally asked her once her sobs subsided. With her silent confirmation, his vision clouded in a spiraling whirlwind and he fell back into whatever deep hole he was dying in.

And now, present day, bandaged and past the worst of the fever - John sat in a stranger’s home, eating a hot bowl of stew. Arthur was once again playing the hero, off to bring in whatever creature he hunted. Once again, there was nothing for John to do. Even the stranger, Mrs. Adler, put on a pair of pants and took care of the outside chores like it was no big deal. Abigail had quietly mentioned Mrs. Adler had been a hostage to the O’Driscolls and had lost her husband in the process. She moved like nothing had happened - though Mrs. Adler’s face gave everything away. Angry, teary-eyed, and red faced, Mrs. Adler kept to herself. 

John didn’t usually take care of the chores around camp, but having everyone wait on him hand and foot, he didn’t like it. 

Jack kept his distance from him and John couldn’t blame him. He’d never been much of a father to the boy, especially when he was first born. John outright denied Jack was ever his son, and then left for a good year or so, trying to find his own way. But he came back. He couldn’t deny the love that Abigail had for him. There was another reason John had left in the first place, but… he didn’t like thinking of it and had pushed it down deep. 

Jack left the cabin and returned with a handful of blades of old grass and sat himself before the fireplace. The snow melted off the boy’s boots and jacket as he made himself busy by the fire. John watched him curiously as the boy made a long braid out of the blades of grass, or at least tried to.

“What are you doing there?” John asked him.

Jack looked up sheepishly. “Trying to make a crown for mama. Mary-Beth showed me how to, but I can’t remember how to get started.” Jack got to his feet and shyly held out the strands to John. “Can you hold the ends here?” 

John set aside his empty stew bowl and grasped the thin ends of the grass and Jack went to work starting the braid, brushing the grass this way and that until he figured out the proper pattern. 

“Is this... fun?” John asked.

“I think so!” Jack was quick to respond. He smiled once he completed the braid. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

Probably not, but it wasn’t John’s place to say so. “Sure. How about you go show it to her?” 

“Okay!” 

John watched Jack exit the home in a hurry, a smirk on his face. That kid was full of daydreams; such a different childhood than John had ever had. That was probably a good thing. Nobody would want John’s childhood. 

Mrs. Adler came inside then, a bundle of firewood in her arms. She wore a heavy jacket and had her hair pinned under a cloth cap. She nodded to him politely and went over to the fireplace to deposit the wood in the metal container. “You doing okay?” she asked him.

“As good as I can be.”

“Once Mr. Morgan gets back, I’ll have to take a trip to Valentine to get some more supplies, like bandages. I’m afraid we might run out soon.”

“I’m sorry for using most of your supply.”

Sadie waved him off. “It’s no bother. This is how it is.”

“When you go to Valentine… can you make sure no one knows about us?” 

“I already promised Mr. Morgan I’ll keep quiet. It’s the least I can do. I don’t know much about you folks, but I’ll keep my word. Your son’s a good kid.”

“Takes after his mother. She’s too good for me.”

Sadie snorted as she dusted off her hands from the firewood and stood up. “I’m not at liberty to argue anything, Mr. Marston.”

“Just call me John.”

Sadie crossed over to the dinner table and grabbed a cigarette from a small box buried underneath a blanket. She lit it and sat down on a rocking chair next to the fireplace and smoked in silence. John silently craved a cigarette, but figured it wasn’t the greatest idea to smoke right now. They sat in silence until Sadie stirred in her seat. 

“Six O’Driscolls kept me captive. I ain’t ever killed a man before, and now I’ve killed three. I’ll take them down to Valentine and dump them along the way somewhere. I don’t want them burned or buried on my land.”

John blinked. He’d had his first kill when he was eleven.

“Mr. Morgan seemed to know the O’Driscolls. Is this who you are? Do I need to worry about others invading my home again?” Her question was honest. 

“I…” John shifted in his seat and flinched as his wounded leg spasmed. He waited for it to pass. “We try to be better. Can’t say it’s been like that in the past few years. But we sure ain’t like the O’Driscolls, I can assure you that. My guess is we have seen the last of the O’Driscolls for awhile.”

“Good.” Sadie stood up. “I’m offerin’ my home until you folk are back on your feet, however it may take. You, especially. Jake…” her voice became thick. “He wouldn’t have wanted to send you away. I’m putting my faith in you. Excuse me.” She departed for the bedroom and closed the door. 

Faith. Oddly enough, that’s what Dutch had asked for many times throughout his life. Faith that Dutch would see them through to the end. Faith that the job would go well.

Turns out faith didn’t matter much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews, everyone! Makes me super happy. <3


	4. Chapter 4

_ Arthur _

He returned near midnight, a large doe tied to Athena’s saddle. It had taken him nearly all day to track the beast, but he had been quite impressed he had been able to track it down in the snow. Charles would be proud of him, at least. Arthur had never had a sense for hunting until he was shown a few tricks from Charles, and now, he found it to be a welcome escape. It gave him time to muse over the recent few days and a chance to think about the upcoming weeks. 

If they hadn’t encountered the Mrs. Adler, he didn’t know what they would’ve done. Probably been stuck in some shack and near starving. It was pure luck Arthur happened to run into the O’Driscolls, but not so lucky for the Mrs. Adler. He still needed to repay her in some way; make sure she was set to continue on. For now, all he could do is provide food.

As he passed the barn, the neighing from all the horses gave him a small idea. This many horses would bring in a small amount of money. All these horses would be expensive to take care of, anyways, and they were eating through the feed too fast. They wouldn’t get much money from the horses, considering none of them would have papers. But at least it was something they could give to Mrs. Adler. He’d run the idea by her and head out the next day with the horses if she approved.

Over the next few hours of skinning and quartering the deer, he sipped cold coffee in a struggle to keep himself awake. There was something about being this high in the mountains in the freezing cold that was just plain exhausting. When he finally finished wrapping the raw meat and storing it away in the cold storage, he made his way inside the house. 

He could see John asleep on the couch, along with Sadie sleeping in a corner. Abigail and Jack must be asleep in the room. Not wanting to disturb anyone, he grabbed a blanket and a lopsided, poorly stuffed pillow, then climbed the ladder up to the small loft. The house, for once, was pleasantly warm, and he stripped down to his long johns and buried himself under the thick blanket. He’d worn the same clothing for weeks now and it felt like such a relief to be free of them. That, and they smelled worse than any skunk he’d encountered.

When he woke, the smell of bacon filled the room. It made his mouth water, but he didn’t budge from his spot. He could hear the trio chatting in the kitchen. He rolled to his side and closed his eyes, not wanting to move from his spot. He fell back asleep.

Dark dreams filled his head as he tossed and turned, dreaming of the night he left Dutch behind. He dreamed he was watching himself from afar, watching himself catch Dutch and dropping him down to a pool of dark blood, and then leaving him there to die. He saw the life dim in Dutch’s eyes - the older man’s face contorted with fading surprise and fury. The man who had raised Arthur, taught him to read, fight, shoot - dead in an instant in Arthur’s arms.

Arthur woke and shot up, shoving his hands in front of him and stared at the fresh blood staining his hands. Dutch’s blood.

“Mr. Morgan?” a soft voice broke into his thoughts and he blinked several times, the voice disrupting his dreams.

The blood was gone from his hands. They were clean, for the most part, the grime of the skinning from last night mostly washed away. He leaned forward and wiped his hair back, feeling the sweat on his brow, and let out a shaky breath. He’d failed Dutch and it wouldn’t stop haunting him.

“Mr. Morgan?”

He turned to find Mrs. Adler kneeling at the ledge of the loft, holding his pile of dirty clothing. Despite her own grievances, she looked concerned for him. “You were having a nightmare.”

Arthur nodded grimly. If anyone knew what it was like, it was her. He’d heard her cry in her sleep for her husband. Her tired face reflected how he felt. 

“Anyways. We was gonna wash everything today, and I could smell these from down there. Do you have anything else you wanna get washed?” 

“What I’m currently wearing, sure,” Arthur replied. “Let me change and I’ll add them to the pile. Thank you, Mrs. Adler.” 

“Sure.” She made her way down the ladder.

Arthur had tossed his pack up in the loft the day before. He dug through it now, looking for his spare pants and shirt. Not that they were any cleaner, but he didn’t have much of a choice. The shirt was too small for him, and the pants uncomfortably snug. They were stolen, of course, on their escape through the mountains. There had only been a couple of homesteads along the way, but Arthur had snuck through every barn and house every night to see what he could take. 

They had truly escaped with little more than what they had been wearing. Arthur was lucky he had been wearing his satchel, else he’d have lost a couple hundred dollars, money he had saved from their last couple of successful runs of bank robbings and what not. It wasn’t much, and would last them a few months, at least.

He changed into the pants and shirt - the clothing better suited for someone of John’s size - and made his way down the loft, the wooden ladder soft against his bare feet. 

“Good morning Uncle Arthur!” Jack shouted from the couch, where he sat with John. A book was in his lap. 

“Mornin’,” Arthur said. He set his used clothing in a large basket already filled with clothing. Mrs. Adler was absent from the room.

Abigail was already heating up pots on the stove for the wash basin. “Figured we get a fresh start with our clothes,” she said. “How about you just take it easy for today, Arthur. You been running around like crazy.” Her eyes trailed down his form, eyeing the dirty clothing he was wearing. “We’ll wash those tomorrow.”

Arthur snorted and tugged at the tight shirt. He hadn’t been able to button the top half of it. “Picked up the wrong size. But sure. Is there leftover coffee and breakfast?” 

“On the table there. Make sure to put the dishes in the sink when you’re through.” Abigail waved toward a plate covered with a towel on the table. 

“My thanks.” Arthur grabbed his plate and went to go sit next to the fireplace. John was sitting up on the couch, his red face less swollen and red. “You lookin’ better, John. How are you feeling?”

“My face is still splitting and my leg is throbbing, but I’m alive.” John sat up straighter. “Jack’s been practicing his letters here.”

“Oh? And you been helping him?”

“A little.”

That caught Arthur a little bit off guard, which John noticed. 

“I’m trying,” John persisted. 

“Okay, okay.” Arthur shoved a spoonful of peppered eggs in his mouth and watched the two fondly. John had never taken initiative to do anything with the boy. Hosea had been the one to take care of Jack, to teach him letters and how to read. Just as Hosea had taught Arthur and John. Now that he wasn’t here… John had done something good for Jack, for once. Arthur wasn’t going to prod the man anymore. It’d only make John stop. 

Sadie entered from outside, a fresh dust of snow on her hat. She shrugged off her jacket and set it aside on a hook by the door. “Animals are fed,” she said to the room. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “I been meaning to speak about that, Mrs. Adler. You’ve got six extra horses on hand. I say we escort them down to a nearby town and sell them.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Might be a longer process in the snow, but… I don’t got enough feed to last them all through winter.” Sadie went over to the washbasin and started dumping in articles of clothing. “I don’t got much canned food to last us all through winter, either.”

“If you don’t mind, you and I can head to Strawberry or Valentine, sell the horses and get supplies. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“Might take a few days. Roads are snowy, and who knows if there’s another blizzard around the corner. Usually is.”

“We’ll have to take our chances.”

“Guess we have to.”

The day drew on as Arthur fidgeted around the cabin, not knowing what to do. All his socks were being washed. His jacket was drying by the fireplace. All his shirts were still soaking, waiting their turn to be washed. He helped hang up the clothing in front of the fireplace, helped with the dishes and finally settled down in the rocking chair, his journal in his hand. He hadn’t had any chances to write or draw in it the last few weeks. Everything had been about survival. 

He wasn’t moved to staying still. Miss Grimshaw or Dutch would usually chew him out if he lingered around camp too long. He was always off hunting what he could, usually small, easy animals. He hadn’t gotten into the big game until Charles had arrived. He’d make himself busy by robbing a homestead, or a coach, or lingering in town at a bar, getting into fights he usually started. 

There was always a gang and their camp to return to. Always Pearson’s food to return to, usually stew. People to socialize with, people to dream with, like Mary-Beth. She was someone who Arthur got along with very well. He never minded listening to her romantic fantasies - everyone would joke behind her back the fantasies were always about Arthur. He didn’t mind it, really. 

He wondered how she was getting along. How Tilly was. He wasn’t worried about her so much. She was strong, but he missed her companionship. It was Karen who had the hot temper and ever sinking alcohol addiction and caused him to worry. He hoped she and Sean were handling themselves fine. He figured they had run off together; at least he hoped so.

Come spring, maybe the van der Linde gang would return. Though… It wouldn’t be the same without Dutch. 

Arthur focused on sketching, his thoughts dark as he pressed the pencil harshly against the paper. He couldn’t get Dutch’s eyes out of his head, the last look of defeat and death. Of betrayal. So many different emotions that Arthur didn’t actually know what Dutch had been feeling. Maybe Arthur was mixing his own emotions with Dutch’s. His dark eyes, the blood drenching the dirt, the warm liquid soaking Arthur’s hands… 

“Arthur. Arthur.”

The pencil lead snapped, jolting Arthur out his trance. He looked up to find everyone looking at him strangely, save for Jack, who snoozed on the couch. 

“Yes?” He said, snapping his journal shut. 

“Are you okay?” John asked him, his eyes flickering with worry, a rare sight. “You were scribblin’ mighty fierce.” 

“... thinking of Dutch, I guess.” Arthur rubbed his eyes tiredly, his hands course against his skin. They were calloused and chapped from the dry weather. “He deserved a proper burial.”

“He did.” 

Sadie was listening to their conversation, but at this point, there was little hiding anything from anyone in the small cabin. 

Abigail stood up, a wet shirt in her hands. She walked over to the fireplace and pinned it to the low wire in front. “I still can’t believe he killed that poor girl.”

They were silent as they contemplated what had happened. None of them could believe it. It had been Dutch’s and Hosea’s philosophy not to kill anyone innocent - but all of that had been thrown out the window that night. 

“We used to be better,” Arthur said. “I ran a few jobs for Strauss a few months ago. No better than a bully and a loan shark, I was. But I did the jobs anyways. ‘Cause Dutch wanted me to, and we needed the money.”

Abigail scoffed. “Always about the money.”

“If Blackwater hadn’t failed, we’d have it. I don’t even know where it was hidden,” John grumbled. “Now it’s too dangerous to go back.”

“I got a question,” Sadie cut in, a small fury in her voice. “If you lot are a gang of some sort, robbin’ from folks who need money, what sets you apart from the O’Driscolls?”

“Many things,” Abigail was quick to say. “We were a family, Sadie. None of us were blessed with a pleasant past, and... all of us have different histories. But we found each other. Dutch, who they were talkin’ about, raised Arthur and John here. Taught them to read. It was a good gang, for awhile. We didn’t harm any innocent people. The O’Driscolls…”

“The O’Driscolls don’t do anything except kill, rape, and...,” John halted his words and appeared flustered.

Sadie let the wet pair of pants she was holding drop down into the basin, splashing the water. She had turned white at his comment. “Excuse me.” She stomped over to the front door, opened it and left, slamming it firmly behind her.

“John,” Abigail hissed. She hurried to the door and started pulling on her shoes and a shawl. “Think before you speak next time.” 

“Uh, sorry!” John said hurriedly as Abigail left the cabin in pursuit of Sadie. 

“Ever the charmer with women.” Arthur shook his head.

“You don’t see me gettin’ all angry at the mention of wolves!”

“That’s not the same and you know it,” Arthur growled. He couldn’t even imagine the three days Sadie had to live with the O’Driscolls and the agony she went through. It clearly was traumatizing, considering how fast she reacted to John’s comment of rape. “Just shut your mouth.” 

For once, John looked ashamed of his words and looked away. 

“I seem to remember you almost in her position when you were what, sixteen? You only got out of it because I found you and rescued you.”

“I get it,” John said hotly, his face red. 

“You, always gettin’ into traps and having someone to rescue you. Dutch didn’t bat an eye with whatever you did, always gettin’ away with being lazy and your attitude-”

“What are you tryin’ to say, Arthur?”

Arthur pressed his lips together. He didn’t know what he was trying to say. He was just… angry. Angry that John was forever the golden boy of Dutch’s. John could get away with anything. He treated Abigail like trash most of the time and yet she still followed John around.

“I just don’t understand you,” Arthur finally admitted in a tight voice. “I don’t understand why you do what you do. Why ain’t you happy with the family you have, John?”

“I - I am. Look, I’d like not to do this in front of Jack.” John had taken notice of Jack now sitting wide awake on the couch, eyes wide open. “Go after your mother, Jack.” Without much protest, Jack hopped off the couch and went outside, leaving the two men alone.

“You know how I was, with you, the gang. And you wasn’t straight with me, either. You keep things hidden, Arthur. And I’m over it, now. Just… gettin’ my head set straight. That’s all. I gotta, if I want to survive, without Dutch. And I do care for Abigail. I do want to be a family, and I know I been a shit to that boy.” John gulped. “I’m gonna try to do it better. It just… don’t come as easily as it does for you.”

Arthur let out a breath. It was a long time ago, when both he and John were young and stupid. The first time they confronted each other with their pent up feelings, but it was short lived, a one night thing. Arthur had been lost in his own troubles, too distracted to treat John right and tell him what he was going through. It was a time they both realized it wouldn’t work for them. They had never much acknowledged it, either; they kept it buried like a dark secret, though Arthur was sure everyone knew about it. There were no secrets in the gang. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I mostly write Sadie/Arthur stories, but I really wanted to explore relationships with this story. I'm realllly nervous about posting the next chapter & I hope I can write the characters/relationships well. I have 9 total chapters written so far, it's just been taking awhile, making sure it all flows together. Thanks for reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5: 1893

_ John  _

1893

There was a secret John kept hidden from the gang. Had kept hidden, in fact, for some time now. It all started when he was a boy of fourteen, two years into being a part of the van der Linde gang. Two years of learning how to shoot, read, and in general, be a successful outlaw. Despite John’s slow learning when it came to reading and letters, Hosea hadn’t seemed to mind, always supportive. His wife, Bessie, was always doting on John, which he quietly enjoyed. 

Dutch, on the other hand, merely asked how it was coming along every now and then. He did help, but the older man was always absorbed in his own books and his maps and his plans. John didn’t mind it so much. Dutch was the one who recruited him, provided him a home, and had provided John overall guidance for survival. 

It wasn’t much, but the small group with him, Dutch, Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, Annabelle, and Bessie, John considered it a near family. And then there was Arthur, the younger man of the group that liked to tease and push John around mercilessly. John didn’t mind him, either, for the most part. It was what he imagined an older brother would be like. 

Then came the time where Bessie was killed on a job. John hadn’t been there to witness it, but instead witnessed the uproar caused in camp. Arthur, making himself scarce. Miss Grimshaw cursing and chatting with Annabelle about how it went down. Hosea, storming off into the forest nearby with Dutch on his heels. 

John had followed them with tears of his own. He had loved Bessie, the mother he never had. 

He spied on Dutch and Hosea from afar, wondering what would come for the gang next. Were they going to move again? What was the plan?

It was then he saw Dutch grasp Hosea in an embrace and… Hosea sobbed into the man’s shoulder. Dutch, caressing his old friend on his back, planting kisses on the sobbing man’s head, saying soothing, loving words. It was such an act that shook John. He hadn’t ever seen Dutch show that much affection even to Annabelle. 

This wasn’t the first time it had happened. That was evident. After a few lingering kisses, John watched Hosea push Dutch away, finally, and walk away, firmly stating he wanted to be left alone.

John wasn’t too sure what he had just witnessed. Loving affection between two  _ men _ ? Was that… okay? Nobody had told John otherwise. It was like he had seen something forbidden. Did it change how he thought about them? No. But it sure made John think differently about things. He continued hiding in the forest, his presence hidden from the two men. 

He never witnessed Hosea and Dutch comfort each other affectionately like that again. 

When John was sixteen, he caught the eye of a slightly older man at a bar. They held eye contact, slightly longer than usual, so John made his way to sit by him. They shared a few quiet words, testing each other for who they were. He learned the man’s name was David. The man was a complete stranger, but was visiting the town the van der Linde gang were closely camped to. 

John hadn’t had chance to explore sex with men yet. It was… intriguing. The man was a pleasant fellow to look at, handsome even with a rugged look, and laughed at John’s stupid, subtle attempts at flirting. When it came to leaving, the man followed John to a dark alley, away from prying eyes. It was then John discovered the allure of another man’s touch. 

In the weeks that passed by, the nights between the two were passionate, to say the least. They’d find some abandoned place and lose themselves in the heat of the moment. There wasn’t any love between the two yet, just wild attraction and a need for another’s touch. But John was young, and for the first time, he found himself looking forward to seeing the man’s face, hearing his jokes, his laughter. 

Then came the night John was caught. 

David was nowhere to be found. John searched the town everywhere, went to most of their spots they had escaped to, and found nothing. It was then he found a letter written to him at the post office, written by David, claiming he was headed off, and that the last few weeks were fun.

_ Fun.  _ That’s all it was between them. It was like a slap to the face. 

He wandered back to camp aimlessly, not keeping much attention to his surroundings. He was supposed to meet with Arthur thirty minutes past, but he didn’t care. He had been used, his feelings disregarded, and he hated that feeling. 

He didn’t see the men who rode up to him and lasso’d him off the horse and dragged him several yards on the dirt, his clothing catching on hard rocks and bushes. The fall had dazed John and he found himself surrounded by a local gang of some sort. John had heard about them, but figured they wouldn’t be an issue. 

He soon found out they weren’t going to kill him. No. The way they pinned his arms to the ground and fiddled with his clothing, John knew he was in trouble. He screamed and thrashed against them, only making them laugh harder.  _ No.  _

He was pinned and they were - they were getting massacred. John blinked away his tears as he watched the men get shot and fall down to the ground, blood gushing. He used the opportunity to shrug out of the rope and yank his pants back up. He angrily grabbed his gun belt and turned away as Arthur walked up, dressed in his cowboy gear, guns smoking. 

“You okay?” Arthur asked him, clearly worried.

“Fine!” John barked at him and stomped away. 

Arthur whistled for the horses, then followed John closely after picking up a few items that had spilled out of John’s pockets. “They ain’t gonna be causing any more issues ‘round here anymore, that’s for sure.”

John wiped at his nose angrily and didn’t give a response.

“Look, you okay? Did they do anythin’-”

“No!”

Arthur seemed to accept that response and went silent. John didn’t notice him reading the letter from David he had picked up from the ground. 

“You- that’s where you been goin’.” 

John stopped in his tracks and looked back to find Arthur reading the letter, heart beating fast. 

“Give me that!” John snatched the paper out of his hands and ripped it to shreds, face flushed crimson. “It don’t matter no more!”

“I knew you been with women - but, John, you gotta be careful. I ain’t sayin’ for you to stop, mind you, but people don’t like it when men like other men. They just don’t.”

“What would you know about that, Arthur?” John glared at him accusingly.

“Not about myself. I’m sure you figured out about Dutch and Hosea, right? They used to be…” Arthur searched for the proper words. “... an item. A couple? At least at first. Then they decided they were better business partners than bein’... romantically involved.”

John kept walking, thoughts rushing. 

“What I am sayin’ is… it’s fine, with us. With the gang. You a good kid. But I’ll keep it quiet, if you want, John.”

“Please,” John said hoarsely. David had already crushed his heart that day. He didn’t need any relentless teasing from the gang. 

It was at that point John steeled himself. Arthur had kept his word and kept John’s interest in men hushed. The gang moved too frequently for any real relationships to develop, so John would find solace in others, men or women, when he could. Dutch all but encouraged John to go out and  _ unwind. _ So John was happy to oblige when he could. 

As the years passed, he saw less and less of Arthur. The big man disappeared for days or weeks at a time, only to return silent and grim. The man refused to say where he’d been. It wasn’t with Mary, that was for sure. They’d broken up a few years ago, though Arthur still kept her picture by his bed. Poor sod. John had tried to drag Arthur out to the salon houses with him so the older man could let out some steam, but… it always ended with Arthur refusing and heading back to camp. 

It was in 1893 when Arthur had been gone for nearly a month. Even Dutch and Hosea were starting to get worried and John eventually left on a search to hunt the man down. They were farther east and had been stationary for some time - Arthur should have no trouble getting back to them, unless something had happened to him. 

John checked every town, every salon, every jail cell. The man wasn’t to be found. It wasn’t until he wandered into some poor town on the outskirts of a desert, full of thugs and low lifes that Arthur couldn’t possibly be there. 

He was about to leave when he spotted a familiar light brown haired, larger man slumped over the bar, a half empty whiskey bottle opened on the wooden bar top. Cigarette smoke settled around the man in a haze and John hesitantly walked up to him, not really believing what he was seeing.

It  _ was _ Arthur. He could tell by the slump of his shoulders, the hair on the muscular arms. The shirt was poorly tucked into his pants and gave the impression Arthur had lost a bit of weight. 

John sat down next to him, unsure of what to say. 

“Johnnnnn,” Arthur murmured, catching sight of him. Arthur’s face was red, his face unshaven, and his breath was revolting. 

Wrinkling his nose at the smell, John said, “You’ve looked better.”

“You his friend?” The grimy bartender asked, his tone angry. “His tab is ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars!” John huffed. He grumpily dug out his wallet of ever dwindling money and counted out the bills. “Shit, Arthur, now I gotta babysit  _ you, _ of all people?” He slammed the money down on the bar and went to grab Arthur’s arm. “Come here, let’s get you home.”

“There isn’t a home for me,” Arthur said in a slurred, low response. He let John grab him by the arm and made sure to grab the whiskey bottle as they headed for the doorway. 

The man was drop dead drunk. That was nearly a first. It reminded John of the time Arthur had broken things off with Mary - that had been a wild time. He’d never seen a man so head over heels for a woman or man.

They made it out of the bar slowly and John headed to the nearby hotel. There was not any way he would be able to get Arthur on a horse. Better rent a room and head back to the gang tomorrow when Arthur was feeling better.

The night was rough for the man, unfortunately. Arthur was best friends with the slop bucket, his vomit suffocating the whole room. Still, John wasn’t one to abandon him. He helped him into bed and removed the vomit and sweat covered shirt and dumped out the slop bucket. Normally, he wouldn’t bother to clean up, but… this was Arthur, the usually level headed one of the group. That, and John just couldn’t stand the smell. 

Something seriously bad must have happened and that worried John.

When morning came, Arthur moved throughout the room to take care of his business, then went to crash in the bed without another word. He drank the water that John provided, at least. But he made no attempt to talk to John and explain himself.

John wasn’t used to this. He was used to Arthur, the usually level headed one, who would take control and do all the right things. The one who made sure everyone was taken care of. There had almost never been a time that Arthur had been the one who needed help - he usually kept everything so bottled up and was so tight lipped about everything.

By midday there was no change in Arthur’s demeanor and John was at a loss of what to do. He had only paid for one night - didn’t have much money on him, really - so he needed to drag Arthur’s ass out of there. John gathered the few items Arthur had brought, especially the whiskey, and packed it all away on the horses. 

When he returned to the hotel room, he found Arthur sitting up on the bed, pulling on a sock. His top of his shirt was undone, hinting at his hairy and broad chest. His hair was scraggly and shooting in all directions and he still smelled to high heavens. 

“You ready to go to camp?” John asked him.

Arthur grabbed his boot and pulled it on. “No.”

“Well, where you wanna go?” 

“Anywhere.” Arthur’s voice was desperate. 

“Fine. Let’s go, then.” John waited a few minutes for Arthur to gather his things and watched the man wobble out of the room. Jesus, was he still drunk? John would have to hide the whiskey just to get him to sober up. Better yet, leave it behind. 

They made it to the horses, Arthur’s face white as a sheet as he hopped on his horse. Clearly still drunk, John decided. “Come on, there’s a place nearby we can camp, get you cleaned up,” John decided, and then they were off into the desert, albeit slowly.

There was one small, drying up river just a few miles to the nearest town. John had scouted out a few spots beforehand, in case their camp needed to move, and had decided it would do for the night. Or at least a few, depending on when Arthur was ready to return.

John would stick by him. Arthur deserved that much. 

When the sun started setting, taking the heat of the day with it, they arrived at the long stretch of river with only a few trees for cover. That was fine to John. They’d traveled some distance from the main road and weren’t visible from it. They’d have their solitude as no one would really have reason to come out their way.

Arthur nearly toppled from the horse when they stopped. He quickly laid out his bedroll and sank down into it, huddled into a ball.

“I guess I’ll fix dinner, then,” John said, shaking his head at the man. What a mess. 

The night passed by without much excitement, though when John woke up he found Arthur wide awake and staring straight at him. His eyes were clearer. That was a good sign, at least. 

“First mornin’ I’ve woken without a headache,” Arthur said. His hair was still wild and shooting in all directions. “How the gang been, John?”

“Alright. Everyone been askin’ where you’ve been,” John replied. He sat up and reached over to grab the coffee pot from his bag. Arthur had already lit the campfire and John fully intended to get some coffee. “Why you been hangin’ out in this town?”

“Dunno. I was ridin’ until I found a bar. I don’t know where I am,” Arthur admitted. 

“Well, we a few day’s ride from camp. You traveled a bit. Took awhile to find you.”

“Lost track of time.”

Awkward silence filled the air as they sat there, wondering what to do next. It was still early enough the heat of the day was still at bay, though give it a few hours and it’d be out in full force. John wasn’t looking forward to it. 

Once he handed a fresh cup of coffee to Arthur, the older man said, “I need some time. A week or two, maybe. Then I’ll return to the gang.”

“We send them a message, then, so they don’t worry.”

“You don’t have to stay, John.”

“No, but you need me, Arthur. Look at you! I ain’t seen you with a beard like that since you broke up with Mary. And goddammit, you smell worse than my horse. What happened?”

Arthur looked away, eyes distant. “I ain’t gonna say.”

“Well-” John started, starting to get irritated. “Fine. But we gonna make sure you okay first. How about you go jump in the river?”

Arthur didn’t respond for a moment, then stood up and slowly made his way to the river, peeling off his clothing as he went. John watched, noticing a dark bruise on Arthur’s ribcage. Damn. It had started to turn yellow, and must be at least a week old. Whatever fight the man had gotten in had been brutal. At least that bruise wasn’t against Arthur’s face - that would have left a broken nose, to be sure.

The man was also skinnier than usual, though still retained most of his muscle.  _ What did Arthur get into?  _ John mused. He grabbed a cigarette and lingered a few moments, eyes trailing down Arthur’s hairy arms, to his broad back, and down to his round but firm buttocks.  _ It was… distracting. _

John flushed lightly and looked away, lighting his cigarette. Now wasn’t the time, especially with Arthur. He was pretty sure Arthur didn’t feel that way towards men, anyways.

As Arthur finished bathing and made his way up the bank, drying himself off with a blanket, John asked, “How about a good old wagon heist?” 

And that was that. 

The next week was spent traveling up and down the few towns and scoping out the next poor victim. It was simple outlaw work, but it seemed to do the job for Arthur. He became more alive and more himself with each robbing - after all, they were robbing only the rich, the people who didn’t need their money. The rich would survive without it. 

Dutch’s philosophy used to be about robbing the rich and giving to the poor - but the gang hadn’t been able to do that in the last year. They robbed only for them nowadays, to survive. But since it was only Arthur and John, with no one else to worry about at the moment… Arthur chose to leave the money in an envelope at a small orphanage they came across. 

One night, they were running away from a few angry men, who, to be fair, had just nearly been robbed blind by Arthur and John. They rode their horses hard, cutting through ridges and ravines, until eventually they trailed up a small creek. A few hard minutes of riding and the angry men were lost behind them.

As they rode, John’s anger flared. “We had that!” John argued with Arthur. “They were gonna surrender!” 

“And then we woulda had to fight one of them! One of them had a gun. Probably don’t know how to shoot worth shit, but I ain’t gonna risk killin’ them!” Arthur barked back at him. 

They continued until they were on a hill, next to the crest of a small waterfall. The scenery had changed from desert to forest and they had set up camp right next to the waterfall the night before. It was only a few more days until they’d be back to the gang’s area. John stopped his horse and leveled a nasty glare at Arthur. “All this time ridin’ around and we only made a little bit! And you gave it away!” 

“That’s what we used to do!” Arthur hopped off his horse and started pacing around the camp. He tossed his hat to his bedroll. 

John stepped off his horse and followed Arthur around. “You just think you’re so good-”

“I don’t!”

“And Dutch’s perfect, right hand man!”

“I ain’t a  _ perfect  _ man!” Arthur stopped pacing and stared down at John with a harsh glare. “I ain’t. I done some things-”

“What have you done?!” John demanded. He stood face to face with Arthur, the man only a few inches taller than him. His anger flared. “This whole past week you ain’t even talked about why you was drunk, why you left the gang for a month!”

“It’s not worth it!”

“No?” John gripped his fists and searched Arthur’s blue eyes. The man wasn’t budging, and wouldn’t. So John did the next best thing that was on his mind.

He kissed Arthur.

Arthur had a knee jerk reaction and stepped back, face blushed and breathing heavily. “What are you doing, John?” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just-”

Arthur’s face darkened as he held up a hand to stop John from talking. His expression turned angry, desperate, and without another thought, Arthur grabbed John by his shirt and pulled him closer, capturing his mouth in his. 

John pressed himself up against the man, his hands on Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him closer by his shirt. Arthur’s hands fully explored John’s back until they ended up on John’s buttocks and grasped it firmly. The kisses were hard, ferocious, intense - Arthur didn’t hold back with his teeth as he kissed John’s neck, trailing down. 

They wound up on the forest floor, Arthur on top, his hard bulge pressed against John’s own. John was bewildered as they continued, lost in the passion, tearing off each other’s clothing, wondering where on earth Arthur knew how to please another man, the man’s rough hands exploring skillfully - but that thought was quickly lost as he lost himself into Arthur’s arms and the angry thrusts, their breaths hot against each other’s skin.

Later, when they lay in each other's arms, breathing hard, their skin sweaty and hot, John searched for words of what to say. 

Had he ruined this? 

It was odd. He’d known Arthur for eight years now. The man had always acted as a brother - had helped teach him how to shoot, bought him his first cowboy hat, shoved him in the dirt as playful revenge. Sure, he and Arthur had argued quite intently here and there, but there was never any real animosity between them. It had always been with brotherly affection.

And now it was something more. 

John let out a long sigh. “And now can you tell me?” he asked Arthur.

“I told myself I couldn’t. Not when I was livin’ this life.” Arthur sat up and rubbed his face, leaning against his bare legs. Crickets chirped in the background. “All I can tell you is this: I failed someone, John. And that’s it.”

The utter look of despair on Arthur’s face, the desperation and anguish - John’s heart dropped. He didn’t bother asking  _ who _ Arthur failed. He rolled to his feet and grabbed his pants. “What was I thinkin’...”

“No, John-” Arthur reached up and grabbed John by the wrist. “No. Took me by surprise, really. I just… ain’t ready to open up, just yet.”

“Will you ever be?”

Arthur let go of his wrist, his eyes flashing with shame. “I don’t think so, John.”

“Then we best pretend this never happened.” John went to his bedroll and shoved himself down on it, his back turned away from Arthur. 

He closed his eyes when he heard Arthur murmur, “I guess so.”

When they returned to camp, it was like Arthur returned back to his hollow, drunken shell. The night between Arthur and John was never spoken of again. John, feeling foolish, stupid, and upset at Arthur for being too stubborn and too damn stupid, made himself scarce around camp once more. 

It wasn’t until several months later of John and Arthur walking on eggshells with each other that Hosea stopped by John’s tent and motioned for him to follow. “Let’s go on a walk,” Hosea suggested. 

John followed him grudgingly, knowing he was about to get a talking to.

“I know it, Dutch knows it, everyone is guessing it,” Hosea began once they were out of earshot. “Something happened between you and Arthur.”

“I don’t get it!” John burst out. “He won’t tell me anything! He’s-”

Hosea turned to face him and held up a hand. “Do you know why Dutch and I didn’t work out?” Hosea asked him, cutting him off. 

“Ah, no-” 

“We make better friends than lovers, for many reasons. It’s because we’re both too damn stubborn in our ways. Our emotions don’t get in our way. I wanted to settle down on some land, Dutch wanted to execute all these  _ plans.  _ He also had a straying hand, but that’s besides the point.” Hosea smirked. “Since we aren’t together as lovers, Dutch has all the freedom he needs.”

“So, what, you’re sayin’ that Arthur needs freedom?”

“I’m saying he needs time to figure himself out.”

John pointed to his chest, furious. “Then what about me? Am I supposed to wait on him to  _ figure himself out _ ?”

“You need to figure that out for yourself. Take some time, John. Go make a little mischief. When you come back, don’t regard Arthur as a lover. Try to move past it. It’s what I had to do for Dutch - they’re men with heavy thoughts on their mind, and we shouldn’t have to wait around for them,” Hosea spoke firmly. “Take control of your own life, John. Whether it be with the gang, or running free - do what you can to clear your head.”

After consideration, John took the man’s advice and left for a couple weeks. He played the quiet outlaw, surviving on his own, robbing households here and there, visiting the salons in his free time. It gave him plenty of time to think of the future. Besides, he was nearly twenty-one: there was everything ahead of him. He would move on.

He returned to the van der Linde gang at the dead of night. His cot was empty and he set down his belongings with the full intent to pass out. He heard a rustle in Dutch’s tent, not too far off, and saw a small dark form rush from the tent’s opening. That wasn’t Dutch. Ever curious, John followed after the form, his footsteps silent against the forest floor.

It was a few minutes until he heard quiet sniffles, indicating it was a woman. Oh, Dutch. Ever the lover of women. John realized he had never seen a man leave Dutch’s tent - did Dutch try to keep that part of him a secret, too? It was curious.

“Who’s there?” the young woman demanded, turning on her heel. In the moonlight, John could barely make out her face, but he could tell she was young. “I ain’t workin’ anymore tonight, mister!”

“Woah! I ain’t tryin’ to sleep with ya! Just figuring out who you are.”

A pause. “Abigail Roberts,” she said with a sniffle. 

“You okay? I’m John Marston.”

“ _ Fine. _ ”

“Okay. I’ll leave you be. Dutch ain’t the kindest to his ladies.”

“I ain’t his lady.”

“Oh. Then what are you?”

Abigail scoffed. “I’ll give you one guess. A woman, comin’ out of a man’s tent late at night?”

“Oh. I, just… didn’t realize we were… you been here long?”

“A couple weeks.”

“Oh.” John shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. She must’ve joined when he had left. “Well, then, I’ll leave you be.”

“Fine.”

He left her, feeling odd that Dutch had invited a prostitute into the gang. That was a first. Maybe once he saw her in the morning, he could actually figure out the deal about her and what brought her into the gang. 

He slept in, as he normally did, the women and men of the gang moving on with their daily chores. He was woken up by a light nudge on his shoulder and he looked up blearily to find Arthur standing over him. 

“Hey,” Arthur said. He sounded sober, for once. 

John sat up stiffly. “Hey.”

“Glad to see you back.” 

“Me, too.” 

“This Abigail here is passin’ out breakfast for everyone. Why don’t you go chat her up, see what she’s about?” 

“Why? Did you already sample the goods?” John asked him sourly.

Arthur wiped his nose. “I refused, John. I ain’t gonna make that mistake again. I don’t deserve any of it. But you… you should go talk to her. I seen her sneakin’ glances at your tent all morning.”

John looked over to the food wagon, where everyone of the gang was huddled around Abigail. The woman was truly beautiful, with long dark hair pinned loosely back, a smile on her face. She looked a few years younger than John. She was dressed in a simple blue shirt and skirt, not wearing anything alluding to her side job as a prostitute. Her eyes were her most stunning feature, but her radiant, wide smile seemed to hide how she was truly feeling. 

Arthur leaned down and held out a hand. “We good, John?”

John contemplated the outstretched hand, then let out a deep sigh. He grabbed Arthur’s hand. “We good, Arthur.”

So John moved from Arthur, and into the life of the beautiful Abigail. There were a few nights when it was just John and Abigail, going on a long walk, learning all there was about each other, nights of laughter, joy, singing, drinking - until finally, John invited her back to his tent. He had forgotten what he had been like to lose yourself in the arms of a lover, someone who met you equally in every way, someone who you just  _ connected _ with. She was that person in every aspect. 

Soon, Abigail was only coming to his tent and  _ only _ his tent, and John couldn’t have felt better. His relationship with Arthur was back to normal - they were robbing, living free from society, and just being outlaw brothers again. The passionate night between them was long forgotten and John truly felt all was right in the world.

Then there was that one night. 

Abigail was pregnant and said it was his. 

John tried to be happy. He did. But he couldn’t help think of the fact that Abigail had been with nearly every man in camp and the baby could literally be any of theirs. It scared him to his core, knowing he was probably the father, but not guaranteed. 

He lived an outlaw life - they were constantly traveling, shooting, fighting. How could he raise a kid in a life like this? How could he be a father? 

Every day he tried to be happy for Abigail, but the fear of being a father and losing his freedom gnawed at him every single day. When the baby arrived, he thought maybe it would change, that he would be a better father and a better lover, but he plain wasn’t. His mood grew sour around camp. He turned bitter, angry, and upset. He didn’t know how to respond to his son, much less raise him. He was itching to escape, itching to leave, itching to be his own man. 

When his child was one year old, he left, only to return to the gang a year later. The year he was gone was a blur - he had been an outlaw, a thief, a beggar, a lover. He had tried to find who he was, but to no avail. There was never an Arthur to go back to, never an Abigail to lose himself into, never a Hosea or Dutch to guide him.

John had returned to find Abigail waiting for him, Arthur furious at him, Hosea disappointed in him, and Dutch ecstatic at him. 

Turns out John had made the biggest mistake of his life, leaving the gang, Abigail and his son. 

He kept making mistakes, one after the other, even to 1899, where he lay on a couch, covered in scars, Dutch dead and the gang broken up. 

Maybe now it was time to change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno why I was just nervous writing this chapter. I hope it's received well and that it was an enjoyable read. <3
> 
> I will be a bit slower at uploading chapters, I'm in the midst of creating an etsy shop and editing my novel (my editor finally finished her edits, I am so excited!) I am also trying out Red Dead Online in my spare time! Busy busy!


	6. Chapter 6

_ Arthur  _

When it was sunny and clear with not a trace of clouds in the sky, Arthur and Sadie set out with empty packs and satchels and the six horses in tow, with the plan to sell five of them. It wasn’t the easiest keeping track of three horses each. Howls from far off wolves spooked a few of them and they attempted to bolt off every now and then. Arthur let off a gunshot in the air to scare off any wolves several times, hoping that would work. The horses were used to the gunshots, at least.

Other than wolves, they didn’t meet much difficulty. The snow was too thick to drag a wagon through, so they would have to get as many supplies they could fit into their empty bags. They had decided to head to Strawberry - the tiniest bit farther than Valentine, but less prone for prying eyes. 

Abigail was left in charge of Adler Ranch and a grumbling John, who could finally hobble around on his injured leg. There were many ways Arthur would owe Sadie by the time spring arrived. Not only had she lent them her home, she was entrusting them to it. Arthur hoped they could make it worthwhile and repay her in some sort of way.

Along the way to Strawberry, they shared a few comments here and there, smoked a few cigarettes, and otherwise kept silent. Arthur was curious to learn more about Sadie - why she moved so far away from anyone. Who was buried in the backyard beside Jake? How did she expect to survive when it was just her? 

She seemed strong enough, to be sure, but Arthur wasn’t clear on how she made money all the way in the mountains. 

When they settled for camp the second night in a dry patch under trees, he finally decided to prod her with his questions. 

“If I may ask, Mrs. Adler… how do you survive up in the mountains? How do you make a profit?”

“Easy. You don’t,” Sadie responded quickly. “Just call me Sadie, by the way.” She wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders and leaned closer to the campfire they had set up. “We live off the land, usually, Mr. Morgan, and we survived.”

“Uh, you can call me Arthur, then.”

“Fine. Arthur. Is that what you care about? Makin’ a profit?” 

“We had to, in order to keep the gang running.”

“And rob innocent people?” Sadie said wryly. “Seems backwards.”

Arthur fiddled with a piece of wood meant for the fire and started stripping the bark off. “Didn’t used to be like that.”

“You gonna go back to being an outlaw?”

“Dunno what else there is for me.”

“Rough and tough fella like you… work for the law?”

Arthur snorted. “Funny.”

“Slightly serious. Bounty hunter, then.”

“Done it before. I ain’t opposed to it.” He set the stick aside and realized she had a point.

“The O’Driscolls on any bounty boards?” 

Now he realized what she was getting at. “Sure. Any lawman would want Colm O’Driscolls head. Pinning him down is the tough part. Even Dutch had difficulty finding him most times. We mostly ran into small groups of his and they ain’t important enough to have papers of their own.”

She didn’t bring up the O’Driscolls again, but Arthur suspected he hadn’t heard the last of it.

They arrived in Strawberry on the third day, a quaint little town that was still in the midst of expanding. There was only a blissful dust of snow on the ground, which Arthur was relieved to see. Several people moved to and fro, calling out greetings as they made their way through the town. 

There was a certain charm to the town. It hadn’t attracted the riff raff like big cities and felt more homey and welcoming. Arthur didn’t mind it so much, but with gangs like O’Driscolls and Skinners running around, he still kept an eye out. They could be anywhere. As they passed the sheriff’s, he kept an eye on the bounty board. There were at least three posters up. He would make sure to stop by and check it out.

The sale of the horses went smoothly. Arthur had taken time at the Adler Ranch to inspect each and every one - he only kept a spunky appaloosa for John. The rest of the O’Driscoll horses were Morgan and Tennessee Walkers and didn’t exactly have many qualities that stood out. 

Arthur had Sadie pocket the money. It was only about thirty bucks, but at least it was something for her. No amount of money could pay back what she lost and he knew that. 

They spent their time buying supplies. They had come prepared with large bags, which they stuffed full of canned food, flour, spices, dried fruit, and an extra bag of horse feed. It would be enough to last a few weeks or even a month or two, depending on how fast they got through it all. If Arthur kept hunting, that’d take care of most of their worries for the winter. 

He bought a small candy bag for himself and a small chocolate bar for Jack, as well as a few packs of cigarettes for John and himself. 

They rented one small room for the night, the only one with two twin beds, and dropped all their items off. He and Sadie had agreed to meet at the bar around six for dinner. In the meantime, they would finish their own business. Arthur took his remaining free time to stop by the baths and scrub off the grime from traveling. He lingered a few minutes in the bath, large enough to actually accommodate his size, and nodded off.

He woke up to a sweet voice calling out with a soft knock on the door, “you want some help, sweetheart?”

By then, the water had turned lukewarm. He shifted to sit up in the tub. “No, thank you,” he said back and cleared his throat. Now wasn’t the time to be lollygagging with strangers, especially a pretty woman. Besides, he always made the most awkward conversation when he accepted their help with a bath and had determined it was always best to avoid it. 

He stepped out of the bath and dressed into fresh clothing, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He hadn’t given much thought to cutting his hair recently, and the barber was apparently out of town. He would have to make do with the longer waves, the bangs finally long enough to become a nuisance. 

He made his way to the sheriff’s building with his hat low and his jacket lapels pulled up. It wasn’t completely obvious he was trying to hide his face, but anything to help hide it. Pinkertons had probably come through here with some sort of word of the van der Linde’s escaping and Arthur’s face had been on wanted posters before. He didn’t want to risk it even if the town was small. 

The bounties were plain and simple, and thankfully, no one he recognized was on the board. All were wanted for murder. Each sketch was crude, but would be enough to identify someone. Arthur pulled down one that offered a fifty dollar reward. Last seen headed to the Ambarino mountains, it said. Highly convenient for Arthur and Sadie. Perhaps they could drop the supplies off and Arthur could seek out this bounty.

He tucked in the paper to his jacket and made his way to the bar. It was still an hour till he had to meet with Sadie and a couple of whiskeys couldn’t hurt him. It’d been awhile since he had been able to sit down at a bar and not worry about anything. 

The first shot of whiskey burned down his throat, not in an unpleasant way. He licked his lips, savoring the taste. There had been a time when whiskey had been his go to and his answer for everything. It’d taken him a few years to enjoy the taste again, and now he made sure to pace himself.

He used to be worse than Karen, who ended every night ranting and finishing off a bottle of some kind of alcohol. He didn’t feel good about that and silently hoped she was being taken care of. Or that she had sobered up enough to take care of herself. Sadly, he had his doubts.

“I’ll take a whiskey,” Sadie said as she sat across from Arthur at the booth. The bartender acknowledged her request and set out a shot glass on the bar table. She had freshly bathed as well, her hair pulled back into a braid, and had changed into a dark skirt instead of the pants she had worn on the journey. 

They were silent until the waiter came over with her shot glass, and another for Arthur, and they gave their food orders for a lobster bisque. Arthur opened up his jacket and pulled out the crumpled paper of the bounty, and set it on the table.

“I been thinkin’ what you said,” Arthur said in a low voice. “I can’t repay you for what you are doin’ for us. But I can safely make money while John is getting better.”

“As long as you don’t bring it to my home,” Sadie responded. “I ain’t about to lose my home to others again.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be gone for several weeks at a time,” Arthur continued. “Bounties can take time. But I will split the share with you and pay you for hosting us.” As Sadie began to protest, Arthur cut in, “You don’t have to agree to it yet. That’s just the plan.”

Sadie picked up her whiskey and downed it in a single gulp. The glass clicked against the table when she set it back down. “I have a request. Set me on the direction of the O’Driscolls, once winter has passed. In return, you folks can continue to live in my home until the O’Drsicolls are dealt with.”

Arthur was taken aback. “You wanna… you wanna go after them?”

“They took my Jake from me,” Sadie hissed. “That home don’t feel right without him. I can’t sleep, Arthur. I keep dreaming of all those O’Driscolls, and now that I know there’s so much more of them out there? I can’t just sit by and waste away in an empty home.”

There was such vehement passion in her voice, he couldn’t deny that. “Fine. Come spring, we’ll go seekin’ out O’Driscolls. It won’t be easy. They can spread pretty far, throughout several state lines.”

“That’s fine.” 

“And I seen you shoot, so I know you can handle yourself. Where’d you learn, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

“My pa. We was raised in Blackwater and spent days out in the fields just practicing. That’s how I met Jake, you know. We…” she drifted off.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

She nodded grimly and ordered more whiskey.

The lobster bisque arrived and they ate heartily, enjoying the warm bisque and the heavily buttered garlic bread. Once Arthur finished his portion, he was half tempted to order another. He hadn’t had such a hearty meal in a long time. He held back and simply ordered a third whiskey shot, and then bought a bottle of whiskey to take back with him. He knew John would appreciate the whiskey. That man was probably going stir crazy, cooped up in a tiny home with only Abigail and Jack for company. Arthur had heard their arguments before and they had never been pretty. 

Sadie retired to the room first and Arthur took a walk around Strawberry, his stomach full and warm. He wasn’t looking forward to falling asleep that night. He still had the nightmares of Dutch and they wouldn’t stop haunting his dreams. Even during his short naps he still managed to dream of it. It was unsettling, knowing he had left Dutch behind, the man who was basically his father ever since Arthur was fourteen.

He couldn’t believe how quickly the gang fell apart after Dutch died. It was like Dutch had been the one keeping them together, with his promises of wealth and prosperity, promises of a future. 

He knew Dutch and Hosea had been upset with each other that night leading up to Dutch’s death. Hosea hadn’t agreed with the Blackwater job and the two of them had been at each other’s throat once Hosea learned how it had gone. 

Arthur couldn’t blame Hosea for being angry. Hell, Arthur had been angry himself, but had been more focused on making sure the gang was safe. 

Arthur reached the Strawberry stables and sat down on an old log nearby. The winter chill in the air was bitter cold against his skin and he was getting tired, but he wanted to give Sadie a bit more time so she could be alone and he was content waiting. 

“You a bounty hunter?” a smooth voice asked him from behind.

Arthur pivoted in the seat, his hand on his gun. He found a small woman sitting on a fence a few feet away from him. He hadn’t even heard her approach. She wore a dark leather jacket with a dark blue scarf tucked into the neckline. He could see she was wearing pants instead of the skirts women usually wore. The far off lantern light reflected off the pistol at her hip. He couldn’t make out her features much. 

“Who’s askin’?” Arthur asked lightly.

“Me. Veronica Edgefield, but you can call me Vera. I’m a...  _ professional _ bounty hunter. I make it a habit to get to know my competition out there. Saw you eyein’ the posters earlier. That woman with you? She one too?”

“No. She ain’t.” Arthur wasn’t too sure what this woman wanted.

“Bar’s still open. Let me buy you a drink.”

“Ma’am, I ain’t much for company right now.”

Vera jumped off the fence and went to sit next to him on the log. From the light of the stables, he could see her hair was dark as night and twisted into plaits on the side of her head. Her eyes were just as dark and he couldn’t deny she had a pretty face with faint cheekbones and a small, slightly bent nose. Her red lips were curved into a smirk. 

“Then we’ll drink here.” She reached into her bag she had been carrying over her shoulder and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. After spending a few moments popping open the seal, she took the first sip and handed it to him.

Arthur was a little unsettled, but couldn’t say no. He took the whiskey bottle and had a small sip, then handed it back. “Arthur Callahan,” he said simply. “New bounty hunter to this part.”

“And you chose Thomas Billard as your first bounty here. I’ll let you have him. I have had enough snow for this year.” Vera took a deep drink of the whiskey and sighed afterwards. 

“I take it you usually have a first claim?”

“Well, it’s always a race against other bounty hunters, isn’t it? It’s not about who has the first claim. It’s about who has the best  _ aim _ .” 

Arthur knew she was right. He had only caught a few bounties in his time, but there had always been a chance of someone trying to steal his bounty. It was a dangerous line of work and it was hard to trust anyone. Even this Vera girl wasn’t to be trusted. 

Vera stood up. Even as Arthur sat, he could tell he was very much taller than her. If she didn’t have two guns at her belt and slight creases under her eyes, he’d mistake her for being a harmless child. 

“Well, I hope to run into you soon. Callahan, was it? We’ll probably cross paths again.” Vera gave him one last grin and sauntered off into the trees. 

Interesting. Arthur would have to keep an eye out for her in the future. Worse, she would be familiar with bounty posters. The last time Arthur had seen a wanted poster of himself, it had been similar enough in likeness to cause a tiny bit of worry. It had been of a clean shaven and short haired, younger Arthur - the exact opposite of how he looked currently. At least there was that. Maybe she wouldn’t put two and two together.

Yet she seemed like a smart woman and wouldn’t put it past her.

He gave it another ten minutes before he headed back into the hotel room, opening up the door slowly and making his way to the short bed. Sadie was on her side and facing away from him in the bed by the window, but he could hear her quiet sniffs as she ignored his presence. 

He dressed down into his long johns and climbed into the soft bed. Despite his feet hanging over the edge, he was out like a light, only to be woken up a few hours later by Sadie shooting up in bed with a startled gasp. 

Arthur was up and out of bed, pistol in hand, looking around for the culprit. It took him a few moments to realize there was nothing wrong. 

“Jake?” she asked groggily.

“No, Sadie.” Arthur set aside his gun and sat down on his bed, filled with the concern. This woman had gone through serious shit. He noticed her stained, wet cheeks from the tears she had been crying in her sleep. “It was a bad dream. Go back to sleep, honey.” He added the  _ honey _ without thinking, but he really didn’t know how to comfort her otherwise. He hadn’t been much for endearments, only really used them around Tilly - he missed her - and wished he could do something more for Sadie. 

Sadie didn’t seem to mind it. She fell back in bed and curled up, facing away from him.

Arthur poured himself a small glass of water and took a moment to reflect. He’d been dreaming about Dutch, but instead of Dutch dying in his arms, it had been Eliza. 

_ Eliza.  _

He hadn’t tried to think of her in years. It only brought a memory of pain and loss. Of a time when he was young and stupid and unwilling to be a proper almost-husband and father to Eliza and their son, Isaac. Oh, how he wished he could go back and change the past to where he had never met Eliza. She would still be alive, probably married by now with a bunch of little kids of her own had Arthur never walked into her life.

Arthur dressed into pants, stepped into his boots and shrugged on his heavy jacket. He wasn’t going to get any sleep any time soon. He grabbed a cigarette and wandered outside, thoughts heavy.


	7. Chapter 7: 1887 - Eliza

_ Arthur  _

1887 - Eliza

Arthur had been eyeing the tall, brown haired woman ever since he walked into the bar. She was busy with other patrons at the moment, serving a round of beers to the cheering group of farmers, celebrating the end of harvesting season. He could hear her soft laughter as she served the men, laughing at whatever joke or comment they were making to her. She appeared comfortable and at ease around them and teased the back, though Arthur couldn’t make out her words. Only her laughter kept him interested and he kept stealing glances back at her as she moved to and from the bar. 

It was a busy night for the town, specifically the bar. People were already drunk or getting there, spending their hard earned money. Arthur was, too, but he hadn’t gotten his latest fifty bucks from farming. No, it had been from some poor sod who had his face plastered all over wanted posters. Arthur’s first successful bounty hunting. 

He’d nearly lost his bounty to another hunter. That hunter had wound up knocked off his horse and Arthur had left the man tied to a tree. Merely for fun. The hunter would have likely wiggled his way loose now and hopefully would steer clear of Arthur from now on. 

That night was a night for celebration. He’d been away from the gang for a week and had made the most of it. He’d bought fancy new clothing. He’d bought another hat - his father’s hat buried in his bag on the horse - and even had a fresh haircut and trim. He was finally feeling better about himself, after the mess he’d left with Mary two years ago. He hadn’t recovered well after that break-up and had acted like a stubborn ass fool ever since.

The van der Linde gang had had some luck in their recent adventures and the money was flowing. Hell, even that boy Marston who had just joined the gang a couple of years ago had proved to have a knack as a gunslinger and had pulled his weight in their recent heist. That kid had a fire and had followed Arthur around everywhere, pestering him with questions about the outlaw life. 

The outlaw life had brought Arthur to this very town. He was on a scouting mission, looking for the next opportunity. It was further east than he was used to, but at the moment the van der Linde gang needed to keep moving. There were plenty of towns nearby with banks that needed robbing or corrupt businessmen who showed off their wealth too much. The van der Linde gang was happy to oblige and rob them blind. 

He drank a second shot of whiskey and waved to the bartender for another one. Up to his arms in drink orders, the bartender barked at the waitress to help. Arthur’s heart did a small flip as he watched her walk over, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the room. Her eyes were a deep brown, almost burgundy from the lantern light, matching the color of her buttoned shirt. The hem of her skirt was lifted and tucked into her belt, displaying her underskirt and a small glimpse of her bloomers. 

She wasn’t a shy one, Arthur decided. He tipped his hat to her as she went to the back of the bar. “Ma’am.”

“You ain’t from around here,” she smiled at him, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “New in town?”

Arthur leaned forward a little, a playful smile on his lips. “For a bit. Passing through.”

“You from very far away?” She grabbed another glass from behind the bar table, a lock of hair falling across her shoulder. 

“Oregon, ma’am.”

“Names Eliza. And you?”

Eliza. The name was as pretty as her face. “Arthur Morgan. Is it always this busy?”

“Not usually. You’re the only new face round here, though. We usually don’t get many of those, except the  _ mean _ type.”

“Why, I can assure you I ain’t  _ mean _ .”

She smiled wider at that. “Good. Handsome face like yours, I wouldn’t say you was.” She finished pouring a shot - double shot, even - and pushed it in front of Arthur. “This whiskey is my favorite. Tell me what you think of it. I noticed you downed the last one - wouldn’t blame you, considerin’ how cheap the whiskey was.” 

Cheap whiskey was all Arthur knew, but he humored her. She’d taken notice of him already. That was a good sign. He sipped the whiskey and let the liquid burn against his tongue. It didn’t burn as fiercely as the last whiskey. 

“What’d you think of it?” she asked him.

“I’d describe it as… I dunno, really. I ain’t ever had to describe whiskey before.”

Eliza set aside the rag she was holding and poured another shot. She sipped it herself and closed her eyes as she savoured the taste, her red lips curling into a smile. She set it aside and leaned over the bar, loose hair falling over her shoulders, her eyes glistening with humor. Her breasts were prominent as she leaned over, teasing Arthur to look down and enjoy the view. He resisted as best he could.

“I’d say… it’s like a long walk in the dark.” Her eyes were teasing him, asking him to play along. “Mysterious, alluring, captivating.” 

“I’d be one to agree,” Arthur murmured in a low voice. “It’s warm and inviting, like a campfire during a thunderstorm.” 

Granted, it hadn’t rained in weeks and they were in the middle of a desert, but she grinned at his attempt. 

Goddammit, she was beautiful. Arthur hadn’t allowed himself to look at another woman or man for two years now, and now he couldn’t look away. “How about you and I-” his suggestion was cut off by the bar doors swinging open and a mean fellow glaring over the crowd. 

The bar went silent, until one man called out, “Silas! That you?”

Arthur turned away from the man slowly, pulling his hat closer to his face. Silas. The bounty hunter he had left tied to a tree. He peered back at the man and noticed a bunch of thin spines sticking out of the man’s arm and side. Ah, yes. The tree that had actually been a cactus Arthur had slammed him into. And then tied the man up with his own rope. It had looked painful. Very painful, in fact, but Arthur hadn’t thought he’d see the man again.

How wrong he was. Silas was practically fuming smoke out of the ears. His skin was a deep red from a sunburn, probably unconscious during the heat of the day, and his bald head had the brunt of it. 

“Eliza!” Silas roared. “You see a fella, new guy, who has brown hair and scraggly beard? Tall, burly, mean lookin’!” 

Eliza smiled at the man without looking at Arthur. “No, Silas, I ain’t seen no  _ mean  _ man by that description. The Doc’s upstairs, might wanna give him some time, he’s with a… client. He’ll take care of your wounds, though.” 

“Shit!” Silas cursed and walked upstairs, stomping the entire way. The talking and piano picked up in the background the moment he left. Several people were guffawing and even Eliza was laughing. 

“Don’t mind him,” she said. “He’s harmless. Somebody must’ve stolen his bounty, poor fella.” She winked at Arthur and poured him another shot. She lifted her own and they clinked glasses. “Cheers!” 

She downed hers in one gulp, so Arthur followed suit. “Think it’s best if I take a walk,” he said, the whiskey settling in nicely. “But I might need some help, considerin’ I don’t know this town ‘n all.”

“Oh, I think I’m due for a break. Charlie! Cover me!” she shouted to the flustered waiter serving a table. Eliza was quick to grab a shawl and Arthur’s arm before Charlie could get a word in. Her grip on him was tight as she dragged him outside the bar, laughing the entire way. Once outside, she pulled out the whiskey from under her shawl and opened it up. “Don’t worry. Charlie would have my hide if I stole this. I paid for it.” She grinned.

Arthur turned her grin. “I wasn’t gonna ask. You have fine taste in whiskey, Eliza.”

“It’s one of the things you learn to appreciate when there ain’t much else to do ‘round here.”

The alcohol was already starting to affect Arthur. He took her arm in his and guided her down the road, his nervousness about her disappearing thanks to the alcohol. “You a mighty pretty lady, Eliza. What you doin’ in a town like this?”

“Born and raised, good sir. Out here, there ain’t much for opportunity. Now, you, on the other hand… the sights you must see! I take it you were the fella who stole Silas’ bounty?”

“I…”

“Eliza!” Silas roared from the top deck of the bar. The sunburned man leaned over and pointed a finger at Arthur. “That’s him!”

“Dammit,” she chuckled and grabbed Arthur’s hand. “This way!” 

They took off down the dusty road, hearing the thunk and curses of Silas jumping off the deck. Eliza’s laughter was contagious - Arthur found himself laughing as she pulled him along, navigating him through the alleys and streets of the small town. They chugged the whiskey along as they went, laughing and giggling as they stumbled through the streets.

Arthur spotted one horse tied to post nearby. He pulled Eliza to follow him and ran up to the horse. He untied the reins as Eliza protested, “Is this your horse?”

“We borrowing it!” Arthur replied and lifted her up to the saddle. Her look of concern disappeared quickly as Arthur swung up in the saddle behind her and they were off, racing into the dusty desert, the chill of the night surrounding them, leaving the fretting Silas behind.

They did a wide loop around the town until they crept behind the hotel Arthur had a room rented at. He slowed down the horse and hopped off, the ground a bit wobbly beneath his feet. He ignored the fuzziness as he reached up and helped Eliza down off the horse. The instant her feet touched ground, he kissed her.

The way her arms wrapped around him, encouraging him, her lips hungry against his, Arthur backed her up to the back door of the hotel, a low growl in his throat. He trailed kisses along her neck and pressed himself firmly against her, needing her. 

This wasn’t going to be a night for many words. Eliza had the same fierceness as him, the same need for another’s touch - screw what anyone might think at that moment. Arthur pulled Eliza through the backdoor and to the wooden door on the right. He quickly unlocked it and had Eliza in his arms once more, their breaths heavy against each other’s skin. 

The night became fuzzy as the alcohol took effect and Arthur found himself lost in Eliza’s touch, her firm, stroking hands and small, perky breasts. Skin sweating, breath hot, he held Eliza close, finding the folds of her with his fingers before thrusting inside of her. Together, moaning, they worked as one, until Arthur lost himself to the beautiful woman. 

When he woke the next morning, he had a drastic headache and confusion. He didn’t remember much about last night, that was for sure. With a groan, Arthur rolled to his side, cursing his headache, and he startled at the sight of Eliza in his bed.

_ Shit.  _ He had completely spaced it. The night before whirled around in only glimpses. He hadn’t slept with many women and this was the first time he’d been so… _ careless. _ Yet, the memory of pleasure he and Eliza had shared started coming back to him. He’d do it again with her… if he had the time. 

He reached over and brushed back a long strand of hair, his fingers barely touching her skin. She stirred, but didn’t wake. Arthur rolled to his back and sat up, the bed lightly creaking under his weight. It took him only a few moments to gather his belongings and dress. It was late morning, from what he could see, meaning he was late from meeting back with the gang.

He pulled his satchel over his shoulder and grabbed his hat. Once he put it on, he heard Eliza shift in the bed and her soft voice, “You taking off then?”

“Can’t stay, I’m afraid,” he said. 

Eliza sat up, holding the blanket to her chest. Her brown hair fell across her shoulders in messy waves. She smiled at him, the smile sad. “Thanks for the wild ride, cowboy.”

Arthur crossed the way and kissed her on the forehead. “And you, Eliza. I’ll see if I can stop by sometime soon.” He left her then, not looking back. There was only so much he could say. The gang was on the move - he couldn’t linger here, not even for the beautiful Eliza. 

Her lovely brown eyes stayed with him through the next months, however. In the months the van der Linde gang traveled, he couldn’t help but think of running into her again - he wouldn’t mind another night of wild passion. 

When Dutch decided to rob the bank of the very town Eliza lived in… Arthur couldn’t wait. The day before the heist took place, Arthur set about town in search of her. He entered the bar where she worked, noticing the bartender, Charlie, if he remembered correctly, washing dishes behind the bar. 

“Hey… is Eliza around?” Arthur asked him.

The bartender looked at him skeptically. “She quit.”

“Oh. Uhm. Do you know where she is?”

“Lives on the outskirts of town. What you want with her?”

“Nothin’.” Arthur sensed contempt in the man’s voice. What the hell was up with him? “I’ll go find her, then.” He headed to the swinging doors of the bar and was about to push through them when someone grabbed his arm. He turned, finding the old bounty hunter Silas glaring at him, less sunburned, but looking more angry than ever.

“It was you,” Silas sneered. “You did it to her. You rape her, fella?”

“What?” Arthur demanded, shrugging off his hand. “I did no such thing, mister! What are you goin’ on about?”

“She’s pregnant!” Silas yelled. He grabbed Arthur by the shirt and gave him a shake. “Only a bastard like you was with her!”

“I did not rape her!” Arthur grabbed the man’s wrists and shoved him backwards. Before he knew it, Silas charged at him and grabbed him by the waist, shoving Arthur falling back through the swinging doors. They rolled down the few stairs in a painful tumble and onto the dusty road, kicking up dirt as they moved. Arthur, younger and stronger and used to fistfights, pinned the man down by sitting on top of the man and knocked him senseless, his fists bloodied with each punch to the man’s face.

“Stop!” A screen echoed through the street. Arthur paused and glanced up, finding Eliza staring at him, horror on her face. His eyes trailed down and settled on her large belly.

“Eliza,” Arthur breathed, stepping off of Silas who was spitting out blood. “He said I- he said-”

Eliza looked around at the crowd, face red and in tears. “This way,” she said and darted down the road, holding her head down. 

Arthur was confused, but followed her, moving his fingers along the way, making sure they weren’t broken. He hadn’t been injured in the scuffle, but Silas would be feeling it for days.  _ Bastard. _

They walked for what seemed forever. The bartender hadn’t been kidding when he said Eliza lived on the outskirts. When they arrived at her home, it was a small, run down shack, any sign of neighbors long gone. What was she doing, living all the way out here? Did she live alone? 

They entered the small shack and Arthur stood anxiously by the door, hat in hand, as he peered around. A simple bed, dresser, and kitchen area, all old and worn down. “This where you live?” he asked her simply.

“Yes. I was kicked out of my parent’s home because of this,” Eliza said bitterly, waving down to her stomach. She sat down on the bed and held her head in her hands. “Didn’t expect to see you back.”

“Well, I was in town, and all…” He heard a sob and went to sit by her on the bed, feeling awkward. He gave it a few moments before he said, “Eliza, be straight with me.”

Eliza wiped her face, the tears readily flowing. She leaned back and cradled her stomach with one hand. “You wasn’t my first, but you was my second. I took herbs to prevent a pregnancy, but it didn’t work. This child is yours, Arthur Morgan. I thought I was smart. The other girls said the herbs would work.”

Arthur didn’t know what to say at first. A million thoughts ran through his head. “Are you sure it’s-”

“Yes. As I said, you was my second and only since then. Not many men come through as attractive as you, Arthur.” Eliza pulled a hanky out from her skirt’s pocket and blew into it. “My pa kicked me out. Silas was so kind to fix me up here. Hates you, though. He’s convinced you seduced me, but we’re both guilty.”

“I...” Arthur searched for the words. He hadn’t given much thought to the consequences. He and Mary never crossed that line, and when he was with other women or the rare man, they were salon workers. He hadn’t had to worry about anything. He set aside his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Eliza. I didn’t expect this.”

She scoffed softly. “I’m sure you didn’t. It was a surprise to me, too. Look. I don’t expect anything from you. I went on not expecting anything, but now that you are here, you have a right to know.”

“I…”  _ shit _ , how to explain his outlaw life. He wouldn’t be able to leave the gang, not right now when the money was flowing and that kid Marston just started looking up to him. He couldn’t leave the kid behind. 

He would have to make this work. 

“I can’t stay,” he said hoarsely. “But we could marry, make you a married woman. I expect your society don’t appreciate you bein’ pregnant and all without a husband.”

“I don’t even know you,” Eliza responded in dismay. “How could we be man and wife? We’re strangers, Arthur. If you can’t stay, then… what’s the point?”

Arthur peered over to her. “I could take care of you. I’ll bring money, make sure you are taken care of.”

“Silas already does that,” Eliza pointed out.

“Who is he to you, anyways?”

“Not a husband. He won’t ever be. He just... cares, in his own strange way.”

Arthur mused over this. He looked at his bloodied knuckles, a firm reminder he couldn’t be a part of their life. At least, not completely. She and the baby… Arthur blanched at the thought. He was going to be a father.

A father. 

“Are you okay?” Eliza asked.

“I.... I don’t know. A baby. I… wasn’t prepared for this.”

“Never are. This is how it is, now. I work odd jobs here and there. Some of the ladies are kind. Some of them ain’t. But I get by.”

“Eliza…” Arthur reached over to her hand and gripped it. “Do you know what I am, who I am?”

She regarded him apprehensively. “No.”

“An outlaw. I’m part of the van der Linde gang. Not wanted yet, but…”

Eliza’s eyes went wide. “You- that gang that’s been in the papers?” She pulled her hand from his. “That’s… no, Arthur, you can’t be.”

“It’s why I can’t stay.”

“Get out,” Eliza demanded and shot up from the bed. “Get out. I ain’t gonna have my child be raised by a low life, murdering-”

“We ain’t murderers!” Arthur protested. 

She walked over to the door and opened it wide. “Please leave!” 

“Eliza, look. I promise we good guys. All we do is rob the rich. We ain’t bad.”

Eliza was crying again. “You come back here, for what? To play with my heart? I ain’t a salon worker, Arthur. I had a life, prospects. It was a moment of foolishness with you, and I regret it every day.” She gripped the door, her knuckles white. “Get out.”

“I ain’t leavin’. This is my child, too,” Arthur argued. “Please, Eliza. I won’t stay long enough to draw attention. I’ll support you, any way I can. Please.”

“Leave, and I’ll consider it,” she said. 

Arthur got up from the bed and did just that, flinching as she slammed the door behind him. He stormed away then, angry at himself for being so stupid. What was he thinking, sleeping with a random waitress? Why didn’t he think of the consequences? Why? 

He was a complete idiot. 

He didn’t participate in the heist. He refused to take part in any wrongdoing in Eliza’s town, lest it looks bad on him. Things had to change, if he wanted to see Eliza and his son again. He had to make it work. 

And in the next few months, he did. He would ride to her place for only a few days at a time, helping with whatever he could. She let him stay for a day or two, though still treated him crossly. He cleaned up the outside of the shack, he repaired the roof, fixed the fencing, covered the holes in the wall. He bought her new supplies for the baby, such as a crib and wooden toys. 

Despite all this, she wouldn’t have him. She wanted something real.

“Why not Silas!?” Arthur roared one night, close to her due date. She was ready to give birth at any moment. 

“‘Cause I don’t love him! Simple as that!” Eliza snapped back at Arthur. She held onto her belly as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “I won’t marry unless it’s for love and someone who will stay by my side!”

“That’s fool talk right now. I’m here, ain’t I? That’s my child!” Arthur said to her.

“Not for long,” Eliza said, shaking her head. “I’ll marry you when you’re ready to commit, Arthur. But not while you’re married to your gang.”

That was that. Arthur left the next morning, not able to return for two months because the gang ventured farther south on some grand heist. When he was finally able to pull away, pocket full of money, he went back to Eliza’s little shack, and met his boy.

Isaac. Arthur had never been so full of love when he took the little boy in his arms. He hated missing Isaac’s birth, but… duties had called Arthur elsewhere. Yet when he saw that little boy, red faced, cooing, with wide blue eyes and plump cheeks, Arthur felt torn. If this is what love was like… Arthur didn’t want to leave ever again.

When the morning came and he left from his pallet on the floor - Eliza refused to let him sleep next to him on the bed - he left flowers on the nightstand and loving kisses on Isaac’s forehead. He tried to hold a picture of him in his mind as he left.

He returned to his gang, sullen and depressed, aching for his son, for Eliza.

Hosea stopped by his tent. “You wanna talk, Arthur?”

It was then Arthur knew Hosea was aware of everything. They took a walk, and Arthur confessed everything straight to him. Hosea listened with understanding and sympathy. Words kept tumbling out of Arthur, his anguish and his pain at constantly leaving Eliza and Isaac behind. It was such a relief to confess to someone of his turmoil. 

Hosea promised to keep it a secret from the gang. Dutch could never know. He’d be so angry at Arthur for choosing a woman over the gang if he knew. Arthur’s allegiance was to the gang first and foremost, Dutch would remind him. 

Over the next few years Hosea would continue to make excuses for Arthur to leave for a week or two at a time, so he could spend time with Eliza and not let anyone in the gang know. Eliza and Isaac were Arthur’s secret, and he intended to keep it that way.

Arthur enjoyed four years with his son, off and on, and taught him everything he wished his own father, Lyle, had done with him. He took Isaac fishing, showed him how to play games, and helped him read his letters. Isaac had Eliza’s brown hair and Arthur’s blue eyes. He was a funny kid, a bit goofy at times, and Arthur loved him for it. The boy’s laughter was contagious, and Arthur found it more and more difficult to leave each time. Eliza still refused to have Arthur as a husband, but accepted him into their lives. She was able to get her job back as a waitress, and they were doing well enough for themselves. Arthur was so full of love for Isaac and Eliza that he couldn’t wait to return to them every time.

It was shattered when he visited them on Isaac’s birthday. The house was empty, which was unusual. A layer of dust had settled around inside. Unwashed, moldy plates were left on the table and sink. It was when he noticed a dark splatter of dried liquid along the walls, the floors and the bed. It was too much to be anything other than blood. His mind went black and fuzzy as he walked around, his back tensing. He wandered around outside, the fences empty of any livestock, and then he saw it. 

Two crosses, labeled Eliza, the other Isaac. Graves freshly dug, only a few days old. 

His heart dropped. He let go of the flowers and the toy he was holding and dots danced across his vision as he took in the sight. He found it hard to breathe as he fell to his knees, his voice caught in his throat.

They were dead. The loves of his life were dead. 

He found his voice then, yelling loudly to the sky. Crows scattered behind him as he yelled in frustration. 

He had failed them. He had failed at being a proper husband, a father. If he hadn’t been away with his gang, this wouldn’t have happened. 

The sun dropped behind the trees, casting a dark shadow over the dirt. Arthur wasn’t too sure how long he sat there. His vision was blurry from the nonstop tears. All he knew is that he got on his horse and left, riding as far away as he could, leaving his son and Eliza behind for good. Tears blinded him as he escaped.

Every day was a blur. He wandered into bars and tried to drink away his pain. He got into fights to make himself forget the pain in his heart. He kept himself so drunk he wouldn’t have to remember the gang and the guilt he felt for not returning to them. 

When John showed up that day at a bar Arthur was sulking in, he couldn’t help but let John take him away. Arthur didn’t know how to function. With Eliza and Isaac dead, life wasn’t worth it.

John made him see differently, over time. Arthur couldn’t bear to tell his dark secret to John, couldn’t bear to admit that he had failed his two most loved ones. Every time he thought of them, Arthur’s vision went dark. If only he had been a better person. If only he had left the gang. If only this, if only that. 

John took him on simple heists where they wouldn’t get caught. He shared jokes with Arthur, poked fun at him. It was simple conversation, but enough for Arthur to feel comfortable again. Over time, he was able to bury Eliza and Isaac.

He had a moment of weakness when he and John argued one night. Arthur was lonely, desperate, and aching for another’s touch, and hadn’t realized it until John had kissed him. Arthur hadn’t given it another thought. He had taken John right then and there, pinning the man to the ground as he took out his anguish on him. 

Arthur had slept with men before, but John never knew that. It had been a time when Dutch had accompanied him to a salon house and basically encouraged Arthur to try both male and female. And so Arthur did, and frequented salon houses for the couple years after that. That is, until he met Mary and he all but quit, his eyes and heart set only on Mary.

He knew John would be surprised - John, who was more open about sleeping with the opposite gender. John always kept quiet about his side affairs and never committed to any of them, but Arthur knew his secret. John didn't know Arthur was the same way as him. It had been a risk on John’s part, and Arthur had been too eager to respond. 

Yet he couldn’t let John in on anymore of his secrets. He couldn’t let John know of the failing he had committed against Eliza and Isaac. Not when his relationship to Eliza and Isaac had been a secret for so long. He couldn’t form the words, and John reacted poorly to it. He wanted Arthur to be more open with him, and Arthur just… couldn’t.

It nearly shattered their friendship. They returned to the gang and Arthur returned to the drink. 

It wasn’t until Hosea approached Arthur one night when he was drinking away from camp. Hosea, angry, called out to him, “Do something other than sit here and drink, Arthur! What has been the matter with you these past few weeks? Ever since you and John got back…”

“I messed up, Hosea,” Arthur said, the words slipping out of his mouth. He dropped the beer bottle to the ground and he walked away from Hosea, the ground dancing beneath him. He was too tipsy for a conversation. “It’s over.”

Hosea’s glare softened. “Talk to me, son.”

So Arthur did, as well as he could in his drunken state. Hosea knew of Eliza, but not much. Arthur explained in elaborate but sloppy detail about his son, what he had looked like, what his personality had been like. He talked about how he had found their crosses and how he had never been a proper father. The words tumbled out until he was spent. He sat on a log, head in hands, his shoulders shaking.

“And what about John?” Hosea prodded gently.

“We had a one night thing. I ruined it, Hosea. I shouldn’t’ve slept with him.”

“John’s a grown man. He makes his own choices.”

“Yes, but-”

Hosea held up a hand. “You’re in pain. And human. You just lost your son and your woman. Had you two not been so stubborn with each other… but you both are like Dutch and I was. Different ideas, morals. You and John are in completely different head spaces right now. Don’t let it ruin your friendship with him. Salvage it when you can, Arthur. Take it from an expert.” Hosea winked at him. “There’s more to life out there, son. Just… take it one day at a time.”

Arthur listened to Hosea’s advice. He took it one day at a time. He made peace with John. He stopped drinking. He participated with the gang once more, bringing in money, food, and supplies. In doing so, he buried down his feelings. He wouldn’t give his heart away again, not when there was too much at risk. He’d do whatever Dutch asked. His sole purpose was the gang and to make sure they survived.

Turned out, that purpose couldn’t last forever, either.


	8. Chapter 8

_ Abigail  _

The first night after Sadie and Arthur left was a strange one. Abigail hadn’t been left alone with John in so long, that she didn’t know quite what to do. For once, he was there all for herself. She didn’t have to share him with the gang and Jack could spend some alone time with his father. 

Abigail had wished for this moment for so long, but couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. It had come to the cost of abandoning her gang and losing her friends and near family in the process. In a small way, it hadn’t been worth it. Losing Dutch had cost the gang too much.

Not that she was particularly upset to see him go. He had been kind to her and accepting of who she was. A little too much at first, considering the few times they had shared beds. Now Abigail couldn’t help but look back and feel ill about the fact. She’d been too young and desperate, and Dutch had seen that right away. He had always manipulated people along with his plans and John kept getting more distant as he followed Dutch around. 

Abigail couldn’t deny being with the gang had saved her life and having Jack had been one of the best moments of her life. But she had gotten tired from the endless traveling, the running, the chaos. Jack wasn’t able to enjoy other kids his age; the boy had never had a friend. 

If only John could realize that Jack deserved the best. There was a time where he flat out refused Jack was his - but once Abigail had her eyes set on John, there had been no one else. Not Dutch, not Javier, no one. Jack was purely John’s and hers.

Now, as she sat at the kitchen table, folding a stack of clothing while John laid on the couch, reading to a sleepy Jack nestled in the crook of his arm, she knew this was what she wanted. A home to call their own with no worries or fears surrounding them. Land worth protecting, a family to raise. 

Maybe not in the Ambarino mountains, far away from any nearby town, but this was good enough for now. 

When Jack fell asleep against John, Abigail couldn’t but tear up at the sight. She’d wished for this so many times, for them to get closer. Maybe this closeness wouldn’t last long, once John was healed and able to walk around. Maybe he’d turn back into his old, distant self and continue to push her away. 

Maybe. She would prepare herself for it when the time came. For now, she’d enjoy the moment. 

By the second day, she listened to Jack read from a book, pronouncing the words slowly as he read. John was in the midst of cleaning a rifle, occasionally looking over Jack’s shoulder to help the boy sound out the words. Abigail had checked the stitches on John’s face and leg that morning, the stitches poorly done, but infection had stayed away. The red seams across his face made the man appear older and scary even, but she didn’t mind that. He was still John.

When Jack fell asleep that night in the bed and Abigail laid next to John on the couch, facing opposite of him, his leg propped up on a small stool, he asked her, “Why do you stick with me, Abigail?”

Abigail stirred and pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“... ‘cause I ain’t been a good man to you.”

“No, you really haven’t,” she said, honestly. 

“I know Arthur asked you to marry him, while I was gone for that year. Why’d you refuse?”

“Because… I loved you still, John. There isn’t much more than that. I still had hope you would return to me. And you did.”

Even when John returned there was distance between him and her. By then, Abigail was a full fledged member of the gang, putting her prostitute life behind her, and pulled her own weight by contributing to the chores and helping on heists when she was needed. She was responsible and civil to John, and he to her, and that had been that. They hadn’t shared a bed much ever since.

Every now and then she asked herself why she stuck around, and the answer was simple. There was no other option out there for her or Jack, no other place to live. So she stuck by, following John - and that’s all she knew. She also couldn’t deny the love she felt for him.

Days passed as they waited for Arthur and Sadie’s return. John made himself useful by hobbling around and taking care of the animals in the morning, then spent the rest of the afternoon shuffling in the cabin, restless. Abigail mostly kept to herself and set herself to the task of cleaning the cabin. In the midst of cleaning, she found a box of old dominos, and they ended the fifth night playing a string of games. 

Abigail studied the domino pieces, the lantern light dim in the cabin. She picked up a matching piece and set it down, knowing she’d win for the fourth time in a row. Jack was already buried deep in his stack of dominos and John was just a point behind her. Abigail cheered when she won, clapping her hands and laughing. 

“Don’t be so happy, Abigail,” John groaned, shoving his dominos to the middle of the table. “Give me cards and I’ll beat ya, no problem.”

“I’m sure there’s some around here…” Abigail said. She grabbed the game box and started putting the pieces away. “Why don’t you go to bed, Jack? You fallin’ asleep.”

“Okay,” Jack said quietly, rubbing his eyes, and went to the bedroom. Abigail would check on him later to make sure he was sleeping. Last night, she had found him buried in a children’s picture book, the bedside candle lit, his only source of light. It was difficult to pull him away from books, that was for sure. 

John lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Sure could use a drink right now.”

“I think this will do you some good.” Abigail had seen him around camp with a drink in his hand plenty of time. He never was himself. She hated seeing it, hated seeing the man he let himself be. He’d even hit on Karen one night, and Karen had told Abigail frankly about it. It hurt, knowing that John had never truly only had eyes for her. 

Left alone with John, Abigail wished she had her knitting supplies. It’d keep her busy and eat up time. She had put in the request to Sadie to pick some up for her, which she was looking forward to. 

“I best head to bed,” Abigail murmured and stood up. 

“Once we all together again with the gang, it’ll be different. It’ll be better.” John said as she walked away. 

Abigail bit back a retort.  _ No, you silly man, I don’t want to be a part of the gang no more.  _ She didn’t know how to say the words out loud, not without losing her temper. 

That night she found she couldn’t sleep. She left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her, and went to the stove to heat up some hot water. Maybe some hot chocolate would help settle her stomach. She couldn’t help but feel afraid this was going to come to an end and she’d be back to running around, never a home to call her own. 

John sat up from the couch, the dying fire barely reflecting off his face. “You okay?” He asked her groggily.

“Fine. Just can’t sleep.” Abigail didn’t turn to face him, but stood with her arms crossed, her shawl tucked tightly around her shoulders. Awkward silence filled the room. She heard John move from his spot and nearly jumped when she felt his arms around her as he held her from the back. 

She’d missed that. They hadn’t held each other in so long. She leaned back into him, quietly enjoying the moment. They had their differences but… 

“We’ll be okay,” John said, leaning his head against hers. 

“What if we don’t go back to the gang?” Abigail asked him suddenly, in a quiet voice as if she was afraid of his answer.

John’s grip tightened around her. “What other option is there?” 

“I don’t know. A place like this?” 

“That requires money and we have none. Maybe once we with the gang-”

Abigail shook her head and closed her eyes. “And what? Run around like we do? Create chaos wherever we go? I don’t know, John.”

“It’s the only option we have if we wanna survive. We sure can’t live here forever.” 

It wasn’t, but Abigail wouldn’t tell him that. Even if she had to find the option herself, she did not see her or Jack returning to the gang. Not after the scare everyone went through. Not when she or Jack could have easily been killed in the crossfire. 

She bit her lip, not wanting to mention anything else. She’d enjoy this moment with John, and they’d make a decision about the gang later. 

As he nestled closer to her, pressing his body against his, she let out a tiny squeal. “John Marston, you are wounded!” She hissed between breaths as his hands settled around her hips.

“What does that matter?” he said huskily into her ear. His lips pressed against her neck. 

Abigail leaned into his embrace, nearly shivering as he ran his hands up and down her back. A part of her wanted to say no, to shoo him to bed… but it’d been many, many months since they had last been together. With a lack of gang members around and a sleeping Jack in the other room… it was the perfect opportunity. She was willing to admit she was weak. She wanted this as much as John did. 

She turned around to face him and wrapped her arms around his back. His arms were comfortable, reassuring, and she had missed the feeling with a fierce ache. 

She pulled John’s head down and locked his lips in hers, breathing deeply as the wanting took over. She felt him pushing aside her nightgown, the fabric easily slipping down her shoulders. His course hands ran over her back and didn’t hesitate to grasp a breast, his fingers teasing the nipple.

Oh, she’d missed this. She started unbuttoning John’s pajamas in reckless abandon and they shared desperate kisses as they made their way to the couch, running into the table and random items on the floor. John pressed Abigail against the couch, his body naked and hot against hers. He trailed kisses down her chest while his hand moved down her stomach with a teasing touch.

In a flushed haze, Abigail’s eyes trailed from John’s erectness to the red healing gash on John’s leg. John followed her gaze and shrugged. He leaned over and lightly brushed his fingers on her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “I can handle it.”

Handle it, he did. Abigail soon lost herself into his arms and kisses, their breaths hot and gasping as they became one.

Later, as they lay gasping in each other’s arms, their skin sweaty, she couldn’t help but tear up. She’d missed being with John, hearing his conversations, his laughter, his thoughts. She didn’t know how long it would last. She didn’t want to join the gang again. She couldn’t. 

It meant she may lose John, after all, and she didn’t know how she would bear it. 


	9. Chapter 9

_ Sadie _

The six days of being away from her home had been unsettling, to say the least. When they rounded the bend and her home was in view, she held back a sob knowing her husband wouldn’t be there to greet her. He lay behind the house, only a crudely made wooden cross there to identify him. When all was put away, she figured she would spend some time outside with her husband, as she had done ever since she buried him.

The outlaw, Arthur Morgan, led them to the front door and was quick to remove the bags of food. The third horse had been a pack mule, the saddle bags filled to the brim with supplies. Sadie helped unload the horses and quietly said greetings to John, Abigail, and little Jack. She was relieved to see John up and moving; he had looked so weak when they had left. 

“You go ahead and rest,” Arthur told Sadie once the bags were unloaded. “We’ll work on gettin’ this put away.”

She nodded mutely and wandered around the house to sit awhile by her husband. She grabbed a blanket from a horse and wrapped it around her shoulders as she walked. A blanket was pointless, really. She already felt numb inside. The cold of the winter was a mere afterthought and she barely felt it much anymore. Abigail, bless her sweet heart, had taken notice and had made sure Sadie was bundled up properly.

Her heart clenched at the sight of the wooden cross and she held her breath as she sat on a stump next to it, trying to hold back the tears that seemed to come by so easily anymore. She watched silently as the slowly moving shadow of the sun setting passed over the grave, her thoughts distant as she tried to remember her husband's face.

Boyish looks. Short, brown hair. A sweet dimpled smile. The only picture she had of him was their wedding photo, currently pressed underneath her pillow. Jake’s parents were long gone, though they had a few friends who would want to know of Jake’s passing. Sadie had attempted to write, but hadn’t been able to get the letters out. It was still too much and too difficult to accept at the moment. 

Abigail stopped by after a while and handed Sadie a cup of hot chocolate. “I had Arthur pick up some. It’s a bit heavy on the chocolate, but…”

Sadie took a sip. It was still hot, but she appreciated the burn against her tongue. “Thank you.” 

“Did you talk to the doctor?” Abigail said, her voice hesitant. 

“I did. All the Doc told me was all I could do was wait and see if my monthlies arrive.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I had some herbs-”

“Don’t be.” Sadie shook her head. “I ain’t likely, anyways. Jake… Jake and I had been tryin’ for the last year. My chance is very low, I think.”

She watched Abigail glance at the older, small cross next to Jake’s, but didn’t offer her anything more. Sadie told her she’d be a bit yet and to head on into the house without her. As she watched the younger woman leave, she sipped her hot chocolate, thinking of what Abigail had admitted to her. The woman had been a prostitute, she had admitted and had dealt with such issues before. Herbs were usually the answer to an unwanted pregnancy, yet there was none on hand. 

So she had to wait. It was any day now and the wait was killing her. She didn’t know how she’d handle it, if she turned out to be pregnant. She probably  _ couldn’t  _ handle it. Not at first. 

Once stars twinkled in the sky, she made her way inside and found a bowl of soup waiting for her. Arthur stood at the oven, smoking a cigarette, dressed down to his jeans, long john’s, and suspenders. “Sit,” he told her and placed another cup of hot chocolate besides the soup. “It ain’t the best, but I done what I could.”

Sadie hung up her hat on the peg by the door and did the same with her jacket. Being with these strangers, she would not have guessed they were outlaws. They were just… normal. They were kind and caring and worked hard. It was one of the many reasons she was hesitant to kick them out. That, and she was just… plain lonely. Maybe afraid.

She sat down at the table and moved the spoon around in the soup. Potato soup, or something of the sort, with chunks of meat mixed in. She lifted it to her lips and found it to be lacking in any sort of spice other than an overload of salt. Still, she took a bite and found it at least curb her hunger. “Who taught you how to cook?”

“Well, it’s more like self taught. I ain’t that good.”

“I can tell,” Sadie found herself saying. A simple tease. She hadn’t been able to find humor in anything lately. 

Arthur took her jab with a smile. “Didn’t think it was that obvious.”

“It needs a bit of work, but… thank you.” 

Arthur turned away from her, a pleased look on his bearded face. 

“We all ain’t much of cooks. We had Pearson, who cooked for everyone,” Abigail said. She sat next to Jack on the couch, who was reading his letters to her. Sadie had shared her small collection of books with the family. They were books Sadie and Jake had gathered for their potential family, and, well… she pushed that thought away and focused on finishing the bland soup.

“I miss his stew!” Jack said. “He made it the best.”

“Strangely enough, I do too,” John agreed with him. He sat on the other side of Abigail, his leg propped up on a chair. “Wish we had some right now.”

“Sorry I ain’t Pearson quality chef,” Arthur shot back at John. “You and I both ran for the hills the moment Bessie tried to teach us. Grimshaw, too, got mad at us.”

“There were better things to do! Like learn how to shoot. Better than cooking, at least. Even Abigail don’t like doin’ it!”

“We had Pearson. There wasn’t much of a need for me to learn,” Abigail said, defending herself. “Besides, you liked my food when I did cook it for you, when I first met you.”

John smiled crookedly at her. “I may have hid the truth a little. Thought you were cute.”

“Oh!” Abigail shoved him playfully, a happy blush on her cheeks. 

During all this, Sadie kept an eye on Arthur’s face. He had a guarded expression and it was difficult to read his emotions. She had heard his confession to Abigail about him being the one who should have married her, but… it was even clear to Sadie that Abigail only had eyes for John. Was Arthur hopelessly in love with Abigail? Sadie doubted it. If anything, it was a brotherly affection he possessed for her. 

So who was Arthur Morgan, really? She hadn’t learned much about him during their six days together. He had given her space and silence when she had needed it. There hadn’t been much he had revealed of his past, other than he had been an outlaw since he was a teenager and it had been all he knew. 

Whoever this Dutch person had been, Sadie actually didn’t like him. Dragging around people, calling them family, and putting them in dangerous scenarios. All for… what? There wasn’t a home they were defending. There weren’t people they were rescuing or saving. It was mere… chaos. 

Sadie could understand the getting away from society part. She and Jake had done just that, but they hadn’t robbed or killed anyone in the process. What was it about the outlaw life that attracted them to it? Worse of all, dragging a young boy like Jack around. At least they had taught him to read and he had a mother who loved him. 

Considering their backgrounds and upbringings, maybe… maybe an outlaw life was their only way out. Sadie had a home, a father who had loved her, and an educated schooling growing up. Compared to these people, she was lucky. 

She noticed then Arthur was up to his elbows in soap and water and she went over to help dry the dishes for him. She had a set of four for everything. Cups, plates, silverware… she hadn’t imagined it would be used for a gathering such as this. She had bought the ceramic plates specifically for her and Jake and their future children…

_ Stop, _ she chided herself.  _ Stop thinking of that. He’s  _ gone. 

Yet when she lay in the pallet on the floor that night, trying to get to sleep, she still couldn’t hold back the tears, missing her husband. 

She woke up to Jack clamoring up the ladder and shouting to Arthur, “Let’s go play in the snow!” The whole cabin was lit with morning light. For the first time, Sadie had slept through the night. She blinked and held her hand above her eyes. For once, she felt rested.

There was a grumble from the man in response and Jack shot back down the ladder, scrambling toward his bag of clothing. Arthur must have agreed. 

_ He runs to Arthur before John _ , Sadie realized grimly. She wondered how John felt about that. 

“How about we go to Cairn Lake?” she heard John suggest. “I can ride now.”

“You sure?” Abigail asked him.

“Yeah.”

Jack stopped in the midst of yanking out a clean shirt and made eye contact with Sadie. “You too, Mrs. Adler!”

She smiled at him. “Sure. I’ll start fixin’ breakfast.” Within a few minutes, everyone was getting ready. Sadie dressed behind a screen she had in her living room, pulling on her thick brown pants and wool button up shirt. She’d bathe when they got back. 

She made sure to make a healthy portion of pancakes that morning, along with a few strips of bacon. Her cupboards were bursting with food supplies - she and Arthur had gone a bit overboard, she admitted. Plenty to last them through winter. If they wanted to stay that long, at least. It was a couple months for them to decide and Sadie was fine with that.

Cairn lake was only a mile away, completely frozen over this time of year. There had been summer days when Jake and Sadie had gone swimming in the cold waters… a happier, youthful time. Now, they could explore around the area or investigate the old, broken down cabin ruffians occasionally hid in. 

They departed on their horses, Abigail riding with John and Jack with Arthur. Sadie led the way and listened to Jack chatting with Arthur, bringing up old stories from the gang. John and Abigail settled back, talking to each other in low voices. 

“How long have you lived here?” Jack asked her suddenly. He had been dressed into winter clothing too big for him, but didn’t seem to mind it.

“Oh, nearing on seven years now,” Sadie replied back. She pushed her hat back as she thought back. “Moved here when I was about your ma’s age.”

“Was it scary?”

“Plenty! But we made it work.”

“Must have been hard,” Arthur commented. The slight breeze had flushed his cheeks and nose to a dull red. “Did you build that house, too?”

“Yes. Jake was the mastermind behind all that, but I quickly caught on.”

“No doubt about it.”

As they made their way through the snow, Sadie led them with confidence. The snow had all but covered the path and just about anyone could get lost if they didn’t know where they were going. It only took a matter of minutes before Cairn lake was in view, the ice glistening in the sun. It was a smaller, cozier lake, where one could easily swim from one side to another.

“Wow!” Jack said, awed. “This must be amazing in the summer!”

“It is. It’s a good swimming hole,” Sadie said.

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“Like father, like son,” Abigail laughed teasingly. She squealed as John pinched her side. 

With Sadie and Arthur out of the house for six days, Abigail and John sure seemed to have gotten closer, Sadie mused to herself. She was happy to see that, despite not knowing them all too well. 

“Come on, let’s build your snow angels,” John said, hopping off his horse and helping Abigail down. He hid the pain from his leg well. 

Arthur lowered Jack to the ground, the snow going up to his hips. “You don’t build snow angels, you _ build  _ snow  _ men _ ,” Jack pointed out.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” John hobbled after an excited Jack, Abigail on their heels. 

Sadie hovered back, making sure the horses reins were hitched to different branches. Arthur followed suit in silence. 

“You ain’t gonna go with them?” she asked him. 

“Naw. They need their time together. ‘Sides, this is a big moment for John. He ain’t been much of a father to Jack, there. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“I understand.”

Arthur pulled out a cigarette and handed her one, which she accepted. They started walking around the opposite side of the lake, heading towards the broken down cabin. The snow crunched softly at their feet, nearly up to their knees. Sadie was grateful for the long pair of boots and sock she had worn. She could actually feel the cold breeze that morning. Her wool socks held up well against the snow and kept her feet nice and warm. 

“Have you given much thought about goin’ after the O’Driscolls?” Arthur asked her. 

“Yes. I made up my mind. They need to be dealt with.”

“Fine.”

“And you, about the bounty hunting?”

“I leave tomorrow.”

“You gonna drag John with you?”

“No. He needs to be here with his family. I don’t wanna mess up this progress he’s made.”

“That’s fair.” 

Arthur took a puff of his cigarette and blew it out slowly. “I was thinkin’, not this time, but maybe in the future you’d like to go with me bounty hunting? It’s nice to have a partner when there’s multiple people to find. And you can hold yourself in a gunfight, which is good.”

Sadie gave it a thought and pursed her lips. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind it. I don’t wanna get too mixed up in your gang, though. No offense, but… that ain’t for me.”

Arthur gave her a strange glance. “Once you hunt O’Driscolls, you ain’t gonna be much different than me.”

She couldn’t argue that. She was about to respond when they heard a piercing cry from Abigail - Arthur was already bolting off in her direction - and Sadie saw Abigail and John standing at the edge of the lake, sans Jack. 

She looked where they were pointing to - there was a hole in the ice. “Oh my god,” Sadie breathed and took off after Arthur, who was just rounding the bend of the lake.

John arrived at the hole in the ice first, ice cracking loudly, and jumped in the ice cold water without hesitation. Sadie bolted towards the horses and yanked off the lasso Arthur kept on his saddle, then ran back to Arthur who was walking the ice already. 

“Wait!” Sadie yelled at him and tossed the end of the rope to him. He caught it skillfully. “Tie it around your waist! Get on your belly and _ crawl! _ ” 

Arthur was quick to obey and was crawling towards the hole in a few seconds. John and Jack still hadn’t broken the water and all Abigail and Sadie could do was watch in heart breaking silence as Arthur reached the edge of the hole, about to dive in, when John’s dark head broke the water surface with a large splash, Jack in his arms. He handed Jack to Arthur and clung to the edge of the ice. Arthur reached out with his other hand and grasped John by the elbow.

Sadie and Abigail both yanked at the rope, forcing Arthur and Jack towards them. John was pulled out the water in one swift movement and the moment they were close enough to the bank, Arthur stood and carried Jack to the edge. John stiffly followed behind him, water dripping from his clothing. 

Sadie shrugged off her jacket. “Get him out of those clothes,” Sadie demanded to Abigail, who complied. Jack was awake and aware, but shivering immensely. Arthur repeated the words to John, who shrugged out of his soaking wet jacket and shirt. Arthur put his heavy blue jacket over John’s shoulders and motioned him toward the horses.

“Let’s go,” Arthur said and went to pick up Jack. The boy wrapped his arms around Arthur’s torso and buried his face into Arthur’s shoulder. Once everyone was on the horses, Sadie led everyone back to the house where a warm fire awaited them. 

The ride back home was quiet and rushed. They left the horses untethered outside as they made their way into the house. Sadie was quick to build up the fire and pushed the couch closer in while Abigail gathered up blankets. 

“Out of the pants, too,” Sadie warned John as he grabbed a blanket. “We will have to take a look at your leg.”

She tended to the kitchen while John disrobed further and Jack settled down on the couch next to John. They propped up their feet and buried themselves in blankets. Sadie was slightly surprised a cross word hadn’t been said yet, but figured it was coming, considering the temper John and Abigail seemed to have for each other.

“You didn’t open your leg,” Arthur was saying as he kneeled in front of John. “Almost did, though. Some stitches came loose. Might as well and leave ‘em out.”

“Fine by me,” John sighed in a low voice. He had his arm around Jack, who lay against him, only his nose visible in the heavy blankets. 

Sadie minded her business by prepping a warm bowl of soup, yet couldn’t help but overhear the conversation.

“Abigail and me, well, we looked away,” John began and sniffed. 

“Didn’t know you could swim,” Arthur replied.

“I still can’t. That lake ain’t very deep, I was barely able to touch ground.” 

“It’s both our fault,” Abigail said quietly. She sat on the other side of John and leaned into his shoulder. “Jack must’ve wandered too far without us realizing.”

“I’m sorry, ma,” Jack said quietly from his fort of blankets. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay, honey. Just scared me, that’s all. You gonna be okay,” Abigail told him in a sweet voice. “You feelin’ any better?”

Jack sneezed. “A little.” 

John put an arm around Abigail and held her close, putting his head against hers. 

Arthur moved to help Sadie in the kitchen and helped her prepare the vegetables and meat for the soup. The family trio talked quietly amongst themselves and Arthur seemed to zone out as he worked, smoking a cigarette. 

There wasn’t much room for Arthur in that particular family, Sadie thought, as much as he was a part of it, and he was starting to realize it. 


	10. Chapter 10

_ Arthur _

The heavy snow decided to return the day Arthur set out to pursue the bounty. He set out with a bag full of food to last a few days, a small tent, and a thick bedroll attached to the saddle. There was a small chance it could turn into a blizzard, so Arthur would take his time and not be in a rush. Sadie had given him a crude map to follow and highlighted the abandoned Colter town, a place where Arthur could set camp for the night.

It’d be nearly another week until he’d be back at the Adler Ranch and hoped John wouldn’t go too stir crazy. The man still wasn’t healed enough to ride all day, but maybe once Arthur got back he could drag John along on the bounties. Hell, maybe even Sadie. She wouldn’t even need Arthur’s help. He’d just be there to tag along while she’d do all the work and she seemed more than willing to.

He traveled far for most of the day, exploring around the mountain side, looking for any hints of old campfires. The new snow would make it hard to find any tracks and made it twice more difficult. Eventually, he arrived at Colter and made sure it was abandoned before settling into one of the old buildings.

On the second day, the snow ceased, and it was his chance to find any sort of tracks. He packed up his horse and left Colter behind, traveling up a small creek leading up the mountain. The thick, puffy clouds threatened to spit out snow at any point and he wanted to get the bounty and go. 

He came across an old campsite, the fire out but still warm. There was only one set of tracks leading away from it and Arthur set off on foot, his pistol in one hand, lasso in the other. The man wouldn’t be too far away. As he trailed the creek, the footprints veered off to the side of the creek and he saw the man kneeling down. 

As the man would easily spot Arthur coming up the hill, Arthur called out, “Thomas Billard!”

The man shot up, stumbling and reaching for the pistol at his hip. 

Arthur took aim and shot the pistol away from the man’s hand, the gunshot echoing across the hills. “You gonna come with me, now.”

“No, I ain’t!” The man shouted and booked it, crossing the creek and down the other side of the mountainside.

Arthur whistled for his horse and took off in a run, knowing Athena would be there at any second. The moment his horse reached him, he hopped up in the saddle and they galloped after Billard. Arthur readied his lasso and waited for the prime moment to throw it. He tossed it once he was within range, causing the man to fall flat on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna come with me, you said?” Arthur said cheerfully to the man as he hogtied him. “It’s a long ride to Strawberry, mister. Best get used to it.”

Billard spewed a string of curses at him, but Arthur didn’t acknowledge it. He lifted the man onto Athena and pitied the poor man for a split second. It’d be a rough ride for him and there were two days yet of traveling. On the other hand, this man was a murderer, and Arthur happily whacked him along the way to get him to shut up. Bruised eyes or ribs, the man deserved worse.

Two days later in the early morning he walked out of the Strawberry’s sheriff’s office, fifty dollars richer. He spent a little of it on supplies - he had left most of his money with John - and stopped by the Bounty board to see who else was wanted. Two posters were pinned to the board, different from the ones he had seen in the last week. 

“Two sisters, Laura and Mera Wilson,” he heard the smooth voice of Vera call out. She was sitting on a silver dapple grey horse and decked out in a thick jacket, covered by a scarf and bandolier. Her black hair stood out against the snowy trees and she wore light makeup that accented her cheeks and lips. She held out a poster of two women to him. “Got here just in time. I’d be willing to split this with you.”

Arthur went over to her horse and mused over the poster. One hundred and fifty for the both of them, alive. Said to be hiding in the big valley of West Elizabeth. 

“Should be a fast one. You’d be back by tonight, if it’s fast,” Vera said. “They poisoned their own children. Now, I dunno about you, but I’d rather they’d be behind bars rather sooner.”

“Split fifty-fifty?” Arthur asked, handing her back the poster. He didn’t know if he could trust her, just yet, but was confident enough to watch his own back. 

“Yes.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Vera grinned, clearly pleased. She waited until Arthur was on Athena, and then they were trotting their way across the bridge and out of town. 

“How’d your bounty go?” she asked once they were out of the town limits.

“Bout as usual as it could go. Didn’t put up much of a fight.” 

“What’d you do before bounty hunting?”

Arthur had rehearsed this a tiny bit. Hosea was usually the one who was good at coming up with stories and backgrounds for them, but now that he wasn’t here, Arthur had to come up with some sort of plan. He kept it as close to the truth as he could. “Travelin’ with some family. We lost our home not too long ago to debt collectors and the bank, so we’re stayin’ with a friend until we get some money set aside.”

“Left your wife back at home?”

Arthur snorted. “Ain’t married. My brother and his wife.”

“Bounty hunting is a quick way to make money. Dangerous, if you don’t watch your back.”

“Always do. How about you? Ain’t often I see a female bounty hunter.”

“You can thank my brother. We lost our parents young and it was his way of gettin’ money. I followed him around everywhere. Usually we work as a team, however…” Vera’s voice softened. “We took on a rather rough job last year. Went south. We got the bounty, but at the cost of his life.”

“I am sorry.”

Vera shrugged. “I’ve gotten by without him.” 

“That’s good.” Arthur didn’t know much else to say, so he kept quiet as they went, following Vera’s lead. 

She seemed to know her way about the land and took shortcuts off road when she could. The snow turned into a misty rain as they reached the valley of West Elizabeth and was in a near downpour when they came across a tent site with bags of clothing and food still laid about, nestled in a group of tall trees. 

“They’re close,” Vera commented. She stepped off her horse and swept her wet hair under her hat. “They can’t be too far away. We bring them in alive, you hear?”

“Sure.” Arthur followed her into the forest, walking as quietly as he could, lasso in hand. Near impossible, considering the branches and brushes they were passing through. The loud raindrops helped. Vera, with her small stature, could easily hide if she needed to. He couldn’t picture her lifting the bounties on the horses, especially if they were heavy-set.

They came across a rocky ravine and paused to give it a glance over. Sure enough, at the bottom of the ravine, two women were in the process of quartering a deer, focused entirely on their bloody project. 

“It’s a risk, but I think my rope can reach down there,” Arthur whispered to Vera. “How’s your aim?”

Without bothering to respond, Vera swung her lasso in a circle and tossed it out with exact precision, the rope wrapping around the woman nearest to her. Arthur quickly followed suit, his lasso grabbing hold of the waist of the other woman. Together, Arthur and Vera yanked on their ropes, sending the women flying backwards. 

Vera hopped down the ravine, sliding on her rear on the way down, rocks tumbling down beside her. Arthur was a bit more cautious sliding down the slope, holding the rope tight in his hands. Both the women were screaming and kicking, trying to shrug their way out of the rope. 

“How’d you think of that?” Vera asked Arthur over the screams of the women, a triumphant look on her face.

“Good job,” Arthur said. He whistled for his horse as he turned the bounty on her stomach, then hog tied the woman’s wrists and ankles. 

“Let me go, you snake!” The woman was screaming. Arthur ignored her and picked her up - she was a heavy little thing - and tossed her onto the back of Athena. He watched Vera pick up the other bounty with no apparent issue and plopped the woman on her own horse. 

Once they were seated on their horses, Arthur said, “Alright, ladies, let’s take you in.”

Besides the screaming of the ladies, it was an uneventful road back to Strawberry, the sun disappearing behind the mountains by the time they arrived back to the town. The sheriff was more than pleased as the sight of the two bounties. 

“You done it once again, Vera,” the sheriff smiled. He slid over a wad of cash on the desk. “Good to see you back on your feet.”

“It was only a matter of time, really,” Vera replied. She grabbed the cash and motioned for Arthur to follow her out of the building. She licked her fingers and counted out the money. “Here’s half of it. It’s late. Wanna celebrate in the bar?”

Arthur pocketed his money, satisfied with the amount he’d be bringing back to Sadie and the others. Only a couple more jobs and maybe Arthur could get them back on their feet. “Sure. Lead the way.”

The rain had settled into a mist as they wandered over to the bar. The road was slippery as they walked, a random mix of old slush and mud. The Ambarino mountains loomed in the distance, a reminder of the snowy trip Arthur would have to make back. He wasn’t looking forward to it. He’d best enjoy the night in Strawberry while he could.

Vera ordered two whiskies and two plates of food. Arthur focused on the amber color of the whiskey, tuning out the piano and the chatter in the background. He couldn’t imagine living this life forever. The gang had been supposed to go west, after all. Get some land, settle for once. Maybe he could bring that up once the gang met back in the spring. 

It’d be hard, with the Pinkertons still possibly on their tails. Maybe they wouldn’t be satisfied with only Dutch. They’d want the entire gang to hang and wouldn’t stop until that happened. Arthur hoped that wasn’t the case. 

“Hey, you haven’t even had a sip of that yet,” Vera said, waving a hand in front of Arthur’s face. “You okay?”

“Just… lost in thought, that’s all,” Arthur said and cleared his throat. He downed the shot in a single gulp. “Thinkin’ about callin’ it a night, after dinner.” 

“The night’s just started!” Vera protested. She waved the bartender over. “We just brought in two big bounties! Here, have another.”

Arthur leaned back in his seat, amused. He let the bartender pour another shot. “Strawberry your hometown?” he asked Vera. She seemed comfortable and people seemed to know her quite well. 

“Nah. Annesberg, really. Pa was a miner, but he died a while ago. My brother and I picked up bounty hunting and one thing led to another. I rent an apartment in St. Denis, that’s my usual spot. Lots of bounties move through there, and there’s always work wanting done by the sheriffs.”

“Then watcha doing all the way in Strawberry?”

“Chased a bounty here. Was very successful.” Vera smiled at that. She sipped her whiskey. “Strawberry is my favorite small town out this way, though. It’s… quaint.”

The bartender dropped off two plates full of food then and Arthur was quick to dig in. Steaks, potatoes, bread - anything was better than the canned food he had brought along with him. He didn’t prod Vera with any more questions, the tiredness of the day finally creeping up to him. 

“Hungry, ain’t you?” Vera mused as she watched him. 

“Won’t get a meal this good for a couple days, might as well enjoy it.” Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed the empty plate away from him. “Thanks for invitin’ me along, Miss Edgefield.” 

“Hey now…” Vera reached over and grabbed his arm as he stood up. “You sure you don’t wanna stay with me a bit longer?”

Arthur gently pulled her hand off his arm. “What you implying?”

“Well…” Vera blinked up at him, a sultry pout on her lips. “It isn’t often I have to beg for a man’s company, Mr. Callahan. You’re a fine partner. I think we could be something… more, back in my hotel room.”

Arthur only chuckled at that, a flush across his cheeks. “You’re very forward. Naw, Mrs. Edgefield, I ain’t that kinda guy. I barely know you. I’d happily ride on a bounty with you again, though.” He tipped his hat to her. “Till later, then.”

Vera’s pout turned into a confident smile. “I look forward to it.” 


	11. Chapter 11

_ Sadie _

A light scraping of the front door opening woke Sadie up. She sat up from where she laid on the couch, her hand automatically reaching for the gun on the small side table. Light lit the snow swirling behind the massive, gloomy figure walking in. 

“It’s me,” Arthur said to her. He took off his hat and shook the remaining snow off to the floor, then hung it up on the peg by the door. The early morning light lit the room, enough so she could focus on the grizzled, weary face. He looked exhausted. 

“You should get some rest,” Sadie replied. She pointed back to the loft. “Blankets are freshly washed up there.”

“Thank you.” Arthur said, in the process of taking off his heavy jacket and boots. 

Sadie curled back onto the couch, pulling the blanket in close, wondering how long Arthur would stay this time. It’d been a few weeks of Arthur going in and out, off to hunt down bounties or the like. Arthur only stayed with them a day or two at a time, then he’d be off, much to John’s chagrin. Sadie could tell John was getting restless, with his pacing and constant scouting outside. He’d probably head off as soon as he was able. 

She listened to Arthur clamor up the ladder and shuffle into bed. Not a few minutes later a quiet snore could be heard. Sadie wished she could fall asleep as easily as he could. 

As long as she was awake, she might as well get a start on the morning chores. She dressed into her working pants, shirt, and jacket, then pulled on her thick socks and boots. 

They had fallen into a simple life. Abigail would be knitting away, taking her time with her creations. She had been so grateful Sadie had picked up supplies for it. Sadie had never taken to knitting herself, and was the first to receive a beautiful yellow scarf from Abigail. She wore it as she did her work chores, the scarf tucked into the front of her jacket. 

Jack amused himself by playing with whatever he could, and John… well, he helped hunt and took it upon himself to shovel snow paths every now and then in an attempt to rebuild his strength. He still had a slight limp as he walked, but his leg had healed cleanly. His face would bear ragged scars for the rest of his life. Without a doctor, Sadie was impressed there hadn’t been an infection. The man was lucky.

It was Arthur who she was truly worried about, and she didn’t quite know why. The man was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet he didn’t let on how he was feeling. She had woken him up from a few nightmares - something was on the man’s mind. She just didn’t know what to do about it. 

She stopped by Jake’s grave that morning as was her daily habit, and spoke a few private words to the wooden cross. She recanted to the cross her monthlies had arrived and gone; she was not at risk anymore for a pregnancy and showed no further signs. When the monthlies had arrived one morning, she had cried in relief. The thought of having a child that wasn’t hers and Jakes would have been too much at first.

She kissed her fingers and touched the middle of the cross, missing him greatly. On a day like this, Jake and her would most likely have gone out for a ride, then return to warm by the fire and play a game or two. 

Her home wasn’t the same. It was a home to strangers, which Sadie was turning into one herself. This home had been her sanctuary, and now it had a different feeling to it. She didn’t even know how she’d handle it, once she was alone, and these people moved on. 

Maybe she wouldn’t. She still had the plan to track down the O’Driscolls - they made her blood boil. Every single one of them didn’t deserve to live any longer. But the thought of leaving her home - leaving Jake - was hard to push past. Maybe once spring arrived and the passes became easier to travel… 

She set aside the thoughts as she continued on with the chores, making sure the horses and chickens were fed. They used to have goats, but not only a few months ago a pack of wolves had taken care of them. They hadn’t wanted to risk the mountain passes and were going to wait till spring to get a few more goats. They had even planned on getting a llama, purely for defense. 

She supposed it would still be worth getting goats. They had been quite useful. 

When she walked back into the house, Abigail was already starting on making up breakfast. Over the past few weeks, Sadie had helped the woman with recipes and given her instructions. Abigail couldn’t read, which meant she had to make everything from memory. She was improving, at least, and even John had complimented his wife’s food.

“He get here this morning?” Abigail asked, motioning with her head to the loft. “We could hear him snoring down to the bedroom.”

“He did. Went to sleep right away,” Sadie said.

“Well, we will let him sleep. I’ll set his food away in the oven.”

It wasn’t until the afternoon there was shuffling in the loft and Arthur soon climbed down the stairs, dressed in his pants and a blue shirt. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a bath,” he said on his way out to the outhouse. He still looked half asleep, with his hair wild and half closed eyes. He was beginning to look like every inch of a mountain man. 

“I’ll heat up the water,” Sadie said. She grabbed one of the larger pots, filled it, and hung it over the fireplace. 

Once Arthur started his bath, Sadie and Abigail minded their own business. Sadie sat at the table, pencil in hand, finally attempting to write the letters to old friends about Jake’s passing. It’d taken her a long time to even want to write the letters, but… it’d been almost two months. People deserved to know. 

“You have such beautiful handwriting,” Abigail commented, peering over Sadie’s shoulder. “It looks so elegant.”

Sadie looked over her letters. “Thanks. You sure you don’t wanna know how to write? We got time.”

“Oh, I…” Abigail flushed. “It just looks difficult. But I suppose if John of all people learned how to, then I could.”

“Hey, I heard that!’ John shouted from the bedroom. 

Abigail looked away, hiding her smile. She and John had been teasing each other fondly more and more, Sadie noticed. Arthur had remarked how unusual it was, considering all the two did was bite each other’s heads off. Once their life turned upside down, they had to set their priorities straight, Sadie mused. It seemed to be working out for the both of them.

Once Arthur emerged from the bath, beard trimmed and hair slicked back, he went over to the oven and pulled out the food set aside from him. He was dressed in simple but clean pants and black shirt, unbuttoned at the neckline, teasing at his hairy chest. He offered no words as he scarfed his meal down at the dinner table.

“You eatin’ all right out there on your own?” Sadie asked him, curious. 

“Oh I eat, it just ain’t as good as this,” Arthur replied. “You cook it?”

“Abigail did.”

Abigail picked up her knitting and sat down on the couch. “Oh, but it’s Sadie’s recipe.”

“Well, my thanks to you both,” Arthur said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back, plate empty. 

John walked out of the bedroom and pulled on a heavy jacket. “When you gonna take me along with you, Arthur? I’m ready to go.”

“Well… hand me my satchel, by the door there.” 

John reached down and picked up the weathered satchel, and tossed it over to him. Arthur opened it and pulled out miscellaneous objects of a couple rings and lockets, old papers, and his journal, which he set aside. He held up a crumpled piece of paper, which had four crudely drawn portraits. “There’s a job opportunity. A bounty, legal in all the right ways. There’s a four person gang holdin’ out a few days from here, high in the mountains. Four’s a lot for me, and Vera’s away on some job right now.” 

“Vera?” Abigail asked, eyebrows raised. “Who in the world is Vera?”

Arthur flushed, as if he had admitted something he hadn’t wanted to. “Veronica Edgefield. A bounty hunter who’s been travelin’ with me on a couple of bounties. We been splitting the shares.”

“A… stranger? Ain’t that risky?” John asked.

“She don’t seem to know anythin’ about us,” Arthur said, shaking his head. “We only taken on the difficult ones together. I’m bein’ smart about this, John. She don’t know where we livin’ right now, and I plan to keep it that way. We only talk about business on hand.”

Sadie had wondered how Arthur had seemed to bring in a steady flow of cash. She had initially refused any money from the man, but he kept pushing it so she had relented. She took twenty five percent of what he brought back in payment for letting them stay there, and the rest Arthur pocketed, saving up for when he and the others were to officially leave.

“If you don’t mind, four is a lot for the two of you,” Sadie said. “I’d like to go, too.”

“That’s fine. But that’s leavin’ Abigail alone,” John pointed out. 

Abigail looked up from her knitting. “I don’t like it, but, I can handle myself. I know you itchin’ to get out of here, John, but you know my feelings on this.”

John let out a long sigh and went over to Abigail to place a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Abigail. I know. I need to pull my weight if we wanna get out of here. How big is the bounty, Arthur?” he asked, turning to face Arthur.

Arthur ran a hand over his beard. “Least two hundred. Poster’s been up there awhile, which means nobody has gone after them. Could be more difficult.” 

John shrugged. “Well, then they haven’t met the van der Linde boys. We’ll show ‘em.”

* * *

Three days of scoping out the far hills of Ambarino felt like a breath of fresh air to Sadie. John was more vocal about it, talking in excitement about how great it was to be moving around again. They traveled carefully, trying to find any tracks of horses or men. They were far enough away from Adler Ranch that Sadie wasn’t much help in navigating the area, and sometimes the snow was just too thick to travel easily. It was a slow progress.

The whole ride Arthur was silent, for the most part. He responded to John a few times here and there, offering his thoughts. When it was the third night and they settled down into an abandoned cabin, the wind blowing through the cracks, John finally confronted Arthur.

“Why’re you so quiet, Arthur?” John asked, sitting on his bedroll on the floor. The fire they had built cast an orange hue over everything. “Sometimes, it’s like you ain’t even there.” There was a worried tone in his voice. When Arthur didn’t respond, John continued, “Is this ‘cause of Dutch?”

Arthur didn’t budge from the spot he lay on the floor, his head propped up by his bag. His hands were folded across his chest and his hat lay over his eyes, blocking out the light from their tiny campfire. “I keep… I keep dreamin’ about Dutch,” he finally said. “He shot that girl, ignoring everythin’ he’s ever taught us. Never harm an innocent, he said. Only steal from the rich. But of course, that didn’t last long, neither. We was stealin’ from anyone who had money. Look at Strauss. Giving money to people who couldn’t afford to pay us back. You ever have to get that money back, John?”

“No. He never asked me.”

“He asked me, plenty. And I done it, because that’s what Dutch wanted. I beat poor people, all innocents, all for the money they didn’t have. Might as well as killed ‘em myself.”

Sadie listened and kept her mouth shut, only feeling pity for them. 

“What if this was Dutch all along?” Arthur questioned. “What was we really after, John? We kept headin’ east. We were supposed to head west, that was the plan. And then that bastard Micah showed up, and I ain’t ever seen Dutch trust a man so fast before. He pushed off all our plans just because of Micah and his  _ ideas _ .”

“You mentioned Dutch was shot from behind. Was it Micah?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur lamented. “No way to really tell. All I know, when Micah showed up, so did the Pinkertons. Maybe. Maybe he had a deal with ‘em. I dunno. I just… had been thinkin’ this over and over. Maybe it’s for the best that we don’t become a gang again.”

John had lit a cigarette while Arthur was talking and he drew a long puff. He let out a sigh as he seemed to consider Arthur’s words. The smell of campfire smoke and cigarettes filled the cabin. “Then what do we do, Arthur? We rob people for money. We survive outside of society. That’s all we know.” 

“I’m figurin’ out a plan,” Arthur said.

“You sound like Dutch.”

“Well, then you come up with the plan. I dunno, John!” Arthur snapped, voice heated. “We get this bounty, we count our money, and we continue from there.”

Sadie cleared her throat. “I told Abigail if she wanted to live with me, she could,” she said, feeling the need to get it out in the open. “When we left, I brought it up to her. She’s a mother, you two. Her boy needs a home.”

“We ain’t gonna take over-” John started.

“I don’t see it like that,” Sadie cut him off. “I meant what I said. I am choosin’ to track down the O’Driscolls. Now I ain’t just gonna hand you over the deed. There’s a lot to be done, once spring hits. Need more livestock, a garden needs to be planted and crops need to be taken care of. If I’m gone, the house is available. Abigail couldn’t do it by herself. She needs you there, John.” 

John shook his head and snuffed the cigarette out against the floor. “I… I just don’t see myself doin’ that!”

“She’s your wife!” Sadie hissed.

“No, she ain’t!” 

“John Marston!” Arthur spat, sitting up and pushing his hat back. Anger flickered across his face, his lips curled into a sneer. “She may as well be. You know that boy ain’t nobody but your own! You know Abigail deserves better! I’d advise you marry her before you lose her.”

“I…” John faltered with his words. He looked down and held his head in his hand. “I know, Arthur. I… I’ll think on it.”

“You damn well better.” Arthur laid back down and twisted his body away from the two of them, clearly furious. 

Sadie did the same, leaving John alone with his own thoughts. She had planted the seed for John, now, but only he could act on it. She hoped he would, because Abigail was truly a sweet woman, Jack just as wonderful, and they needed a way out of their gang life. Sadie would help, just as Jake would have.

* * *

When all was said and done, the bounties found a day later and turned into Strawberry, all four of them alive and well, Sadie and the men walked out of the sheriff's building two hundred and fifty dollars richer. Sadie accepted her share - split three ways evenly this time, since she helped - and convinced the two men to stop by the bar for a drink. 

They celebrated with a round of beers and hefty dinners and sat in one of the booths in the bar. Sadie purchased a case of additional beer to take back, as well as some wine to give to Abigail. 

“You did well back there,” Arthur said, taking a sip of his beer. He had left his hat back on his horse. His hair was swept behind his ears and his eyes were playful, looking less stressed than before. “You even disarmed him without woundin’ him. Ain’t many who could win a draw like that.”

“My pa was an ex military sharpshooter,” Sadie said, grinning at him. “Taught me everything. Taught Jake, too, which was mighty helpful when we moved out to the middle of nowhere. Vagrants, bears, wolves - we held our own.” 

“I bet you did!” 

Sadie thought how easily she had mentioned Jake. She had finished writing the letters, too, and had mailed them off when they were in Strawberry. Time does heal wounds, she mused, but her heart was missing it’s partner. She itched to just drop everything and seek out the O’Driscoll’s and avenge not only Jake, but herself, but now was not the time. Once Abigail was settled, once the house was taken care of… then Sadie would leave.

“What do you do out here, when you out all on your own?” Sadie asked Arthur. She brushed back her braid and shrugged out of her jacket. The warmth of the bar was finally settling in.

“Survive. There ain’t much else I do.” Arthur took a sip from his beer.

“It’s true,” John said, “he ain’t ever gone out much for fun. Always work. Ain’t ever joined us when we went to… bars. Always chased away the ladies, too.”

Sadie lifted an eyebrow, sure he meant to say _ salons _ or the like. “No ladies, Arthur?” she teased.

“Makes me uncomfortable,” Arthur muttered into his beer. 

John took a giant swig of his beer and let out a small burp. “Who knew Mary could wreck you up like that?”

Arthur gave him a side glare. “It ain’t all about Mary. Moved on from her years ago.”

“Just…” John turned serious. “Don’t be goin’ into that slump I found you in, you hear? You got us who… care for you.”

The two held eye contact, a hidden story and unsaid words between them. Sadie looked away, into the depths of the restaurant, wondering what the two men’s thoughts were. Perhaps if she wasn’t there, they’d talk about it. It wasn’t her place to prod and she would leave it be. Though, the look between the two men - there was more to it. They obviously cared for one another and there was so much history between them. 

Still, they got along as brothers and that seemed to suit them just fine. Arthur, the older one, more responsible, and John, the more rebellious one. They’d find their way, Sadie was sure of it.

“Arthur!” a woman called out from across the bar. A short, black haired woman sauntered over, dressed in a frilly shirt, tucked into pristine pants. One pistol dangled from the belt at the woman’s hip. This must be Vera, Sadie decided.

“Vera,” Arthur nodded to her, holding up his beer in greeting. “This is Jim Callahan, my brother, and our friend, Sadie Adler.”

“Adler? Jake’s wife?” Vera questioned. 

“How do you know Jake?” Sadie asked, a bit taken back.

Vera put her hands on her hips and leaned to one side. “Hired me about six months ago to rescue a creditor of his.”

Sadie crossed her arms. A creditor? What was Jake doing with a creditor? “Don’t recall you passin’ through.”

“You wasn’t supposed to know. Gave myself away now, I guess,” Vera said and shrugged. “I got paid. Your husband lookin’ for any other work?”

The woman didn’t know. The few people Sadie knew in Strawberry hadn’t been informed yet of Jake’s death. Sadie tried to open her mouth to reply, but found the words hard to say.  _ Jake was dead.  _

“He passed,” Arthur said, his voice gentle. “What can we do for you, Vera?”

“Got another job. This time it ain’t a bounty, but escorting a wagon. The bank here hires me sometimes. It’s a monthly gig, if you’re interested,” Vera suggested, her voice in a near purr. She had barely spared John or Sadie a second glance.

“Not this time. Maybe next month,” Arthur said. 

“Okay. Well… I’ll be around. Guess I’ll leave you be. Remember, Arthur, my offer still stands.” Vera winked at Arthur and turned on her heels. Arthur stayed silent until the woman had left the building. 

Arthur groaned. “Sorry, Sadie, guess she knows where we livin’ now.”

“It’s fine.” Sadie chewed on her lip in thought. A creditor was at the house? It could only mean one thing - they owed money somewhere. Jake did, at least. She would have to stop by the bank to figure it out. 

“I take it there was more to that offer?” John asked. 

Sadie noticed red flushed across Arthur’s cheeks. “It ain’t nothin’. I said no,” Arthur said.

John rolled his eyes. “Like you always do.”

* * *

“Four hundred dollars?” Sadie yelled once the banker told her of the brand new debt. “Jake took out a four hundred dollar loan? Why?!” 

It was eight o’clock in the morning and the three of them stood inside the bank, ready to leave back to home. It was a bright and clear sky day, a promise that spring was just around the corner. Which meant many things could happen the instant they returned home. 

For now, her focus was on this debt.

“Let’s see…” the banker nervously said, a middle aged, plump little man. “Yes, see here. Your husband was approved for this big order, you see here? We have the receipts upon his request.” The banker slid the pieces of paper across the table.

Sadie glanced through the paper, not quite believing what she was reading. Supplies meant for a baby - toys, crib, clothing. Enough lumber for fencing and expanding their barn for their ranch. A written agreement from a farmer, where four cows, four goats and four pigs would be delivered to their house. Everything was already paid for by this loan and to be delivered the first of March. 

She bit back a sob. Jake had planned ahead without letting her in on it. He had planned for children - he must have set this order in despite knowing they most likely wouldn’t have kids. “My husband died,” Sadie croaked, pushing the receipts back to the banker. “I ain’t got the money for this.”

“I apologize for your loss, ma’am, however we can work out a payment plan.”

She felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, holding her tight. “How much is left on the loan?” Arthur inquired. Sadie leaned into his hand, needing his strength at the moment. 

The banker pushed up his circular glasses on his nose. “About three hundred and fifty, sir.”

“Here.” Arthur dug into his satchel and pulled out his take of the money. “Eighty dollars, right here.”

“Arthur-” Sadie protested.

“Don’t,” Arthur said softly. He gave a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder. “You been through enough. We start with eighty, and pay off a bit each month. How does the end of the year sound, mister?”

“Fine. Let me just come up with a few papers here…” the banker dug through his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. He flipped through it, signed a few, then passed it along to Sadie. “Initial and sign these, please. If you do run late on a loan, there will be a creditor sent to you to collect.”

Sadie signed the papers, feeling numb. It wasn’t fear of paying off the loan. She could do that. It was the fear of being tied down to the house forever. 

She didn’t know if that’s what she wanted anymore, not without Jake.


	12. Chapter 12

_ Arthur _

It hadn’t snowed for several days as they made their way back to the Adler Ranch. It would just be a few weeks until spring was on their doorstep, along it with decisions that needed to be made. Arthur still wasn’t too sure how everything was going to go down, and probably wouldn’t know until he met with Hosea. 

“These are a lot of footsteps for this area,” Sadie commented, wariness in her voice. She pointed to the snowy path, a bunch of miskewed footsteps on the trail. “It hasn’t snowed much since we left. There should only be ours down this path. This is easily ten or more horses headed directly toward my home.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Arthur muttered. 

“That means… Abigail?” John questioned, eyes wide. “Let’s go!” He urged his horse into a gallop, Arthur and Sadie close behind.

Sure enough, the misshapen snow led all the way up the path and to Sadie’s cabin. A welcoming plume of smoke drifted from the chimney and buildings remained thankfully upright and intact. It was clear someone had searched the entirety of the area, the snow pushed aside as horses and footsteps paved their way through. There was no sign of a scuffle or a gunfight.

The door opened and Abigail greeted them from the doorway, holding a shawl tightly over her shoulders. Jack darted past her, waving his hand in greeting. 

John slowed down his horse and hopped off in front of her. He stiffened as Jack rushed forward and hugged him with childish glee. After a small moment, he loosened his shoulders and leaned over to pat Jack on the head. “You okay?” He asked them.

“It was the Pinkertons,” Abigail began. “They stopped by.”

Arthur’s mouth set in a firm line. He hadn’t suspected they’d be up in the Ambarino mountains already. “They cause any issues?”

“Only a little bit. Thank goodness I had put all the extra blankets and pillows away and you took most of the horses with you. It would have been suspicious.” Abigail shivered. “Your footsteps were gone, too. The snow hid everything the night you left.”

Arthur let out a sigh of relief. 

“Did they ask why you were alone?” John asked her.

“Wanted to keep it as truthful as I could. I was stayin’ with Mrs. Adler and she was out on a supply run. Didn’t have to say much else. They didn’t ask me much about the gang and didn’t stay too long. Come inside where it’s warm,” Abigail said. 

“Sadie and I will take care of the horses,” Arthur replied. He stepped off Athena and grabbed the reins to John’s horse, and led them both to the barn, Sadie following.

“The Pinkertons an issue?” Sadie asked him as she started unbuckling the saddle.

“Never used to be. But, bad job after bad job, they took notice. They don’t like us,” Arthur said as he took care of the saddle. “Didn’t think they’d be here already.”

“Hopefully they stay away.”

Arthur couldn’t agree more. “My guess is they’ll be back. Seems like Dutch’s death wasn’t enough for them. They want my head, or John’s, or Hosea’s.”

Sadie leaned down and grabbed a brush, and went to work brushing her horse’s coat. “How much are they payin’ for you, anyways?” 

Arthur let out a low chuckle. “Why, thinking of turnin’ me in?” 

“I’d never-” she began protesting.

“No, I suppose not,” Arthur grinned. “It used to be 5,000 for my head alone.” 

Sadie’s mouth dropped open and she turned to stare at him, eyes wide. “Just what kinda outlaw were you?”

“Well, once you avoid the law your entire life, it adds up.” He watched Sadie turn back to her horse in silence, shaking her head. That amount of money was unfathomable. Arthur sincerely doubted Sadie would do anything with this information. Hosea was worth even more, and even John had a couple thousand to his Wanted poster. It was pure luck Sadie had been the one to take them in.

Later that night, as they settled around the living room, the fire cackling, Jack stood by the window admiring the clear and starry sky. John and Abigail sat on the couch, feet propped up, Abigail nestled in the crook of John’s arm. Arthur sat on a wooden chair on the other side, his journal open, sketching away at John and Abigail’s portrait. 

Sadie sat at the dinner table, log book open, deep in the task of budgeting. She seemed distracted, still distraught at the thought of owing money. Arthur had promised to see her through it, and he would keep that promise. 

“Can we go out and look at the stars?” Jack was asking Abigail, already dressed in his thick jacket. 

“Not tonight,” Abigail replied. “How about you get ready for bed?” 

Jack pouted at her and looked pleadingly to Arthur. “Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur stopped sketching. He was warm, drinking a beer, and cozy in his little chair. “I don’t know-”

“I could do for a little walk,” Sadie said, standing up. “There’s a trail up the hill not too far away. Best view of the night sky is from there.” 

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Thank you!” He ran to his boots and scarf and started pulling them on in a hurry.

Arthur snapped his journal shut and leveled a steady mocking glare at John and Abigail. Two little lovebirds snuggled on the couch. They smiled at him impishly. Arthur grabbed his own jacket and stepped into his boots. He opened the cabin door, a light and freezing breeze greeting him. Sadie and Jack slipped out and Arthur moved to follow. 

“Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do,” Arthur said to John and Abigail. He shut the door quickly, the pillow John threw bouncing off the door. 

Arthur walked beside Sadie as they wandered away from the cabin. She held a lantern as she walked and Jack ran ahead of them, looking back and going where Sadie pointed to. John had given the little boy an entire chocolate bar that night and there wasn’t any sign Jack would be tired anytime soon. Perhaps a night walk would tire the boy out. It would sure tire Arthur out. He already felt the low ache in his back from riding all day and he couldn’t wait to clamor into bed. 

“John and Abigail sure made up,” Sadie commented as they walked, the snow crunching softly beneath their feet. 

“I don’t know for how long, but sure.”

“Why are you so doubtful? I don’t know them as well as you do, but…”

Arthur stuffed his hands into his pocket and let out a breath, the cold air fogging around him. “John’s a… free spirit, one could say. Tough tying him down, is all.”

“Ah. And Abigail stays with him?”

“She does. Can’t explain it, really. It kinda fell apart when… well, when John had to be a father. It ain’t for everyone.”

Jack was ahead of them, oblivious of their conversation, kicking up snow as he walked.

“But I am proud of him. He’s come a long way,” Arthur mused. “Abigail’s good for him.”

“She is. If you don’t mind me digging… John mentioned a Mary. Was she a part of your gang?”

Arthur snorted. “Nah. A proper lady. It was a long, long time ago. I was young, she was beautiful, but she wasn’t one for the outlaw life.”

“Sounds like the gang is really all you’ve known.”

“It is. It wasn’t bad. Some of my happiest memories are being with them.”

“I could see that.” 

“Look!” Jack chimed ahead from them. He pointed to the endless night sky, the stars twinkling like diamonds against the darkness of the night. Arthur leaned down and picked up Jack, and placed him over his shoulders. Jack gripped a firm hold onto Arthur’s jacket and pointed with his other hand. “Look at the moon!”

It was hard to ignore. Nearly a full moon crested over the tips of the mountains, the moonlight soaking into the sky. Sadie dimmed the lantern, casting them in complete darkness, only the moonlight and shimmering stars as their guide. 

Mountains stretched all around them, reminding Arthur just how small they were in the vastness of the world. The wind had quieted down, along with everything else. It was just the three of them, lost in the quiet, lonely void of the night sky.

A bright light sparkled across the sky and disappeared as quick as it came. “What was that?” Jack asked, his voice full of awe.

Arthur smiled to himself. “It’s a shooting star. Make a wish, Jack.”

“Why?”

“That’s what you do when you see a shooting star. Keep it to yourself, now.”

Jack went quiet as he considered his wish. Arthur contemplated what his own wish could be, and realized it was simple. He wished Dutch hadn’t died. The thought made him feel foolish, wishing for something gone and done with. No, he should wish for something in the future, but what would that even be? 

He heard a sniff from Sadie and found her holding back tears. “Ah, Sadie,” he murmured and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close to him as she let the tears flow, sobbing quietly into his chest. She had no doubt wished for Jake’s return. Arthur wondered if this had been a spot she had shared with Jake. Considering her tears, it meant something to her.

_ My wish is for us to be safe,  _ Arthur thought.  _ Sadie, John, Abigail, Jack… Maybe free was a better word.  _

* * *

Arthur stayed for nearly a week at Sadie’s cabin, helping with the chores and doing what he could. He and John had shoved the remaining snow into pathways, making easy access for movement about the property. Spring was around the corner and the last of the snowfall had passed. 

Once Sadie got all the lumber and animals in March, there would be plenty of work to do with expanding the barn and building more fences. She had described the number of crops that were to be planted as well, such as corn, potatoes, tomatoes, beans, cabbage… Arthur had been astounded at the list she had provided him. It was easier for him to see how she survived all those years off the land - it was hard work, pure and simple. 

After spending time with Sadie, Arthur felt torn. She needed help to get her farm up and running for the spring. Abigail wanted to stay, making it difficult for John to leave. Arthur was at a loss of what to do with himself. The farm wasn’t his and the gang was potentially still on the run for the Pinkertons. He couldn’t keep hiding away in the Ambarino mountains, as much as he had enjoyed the tranquility of it. 

One early morning, a chilly spring breeze in the air, he noticed a silver horse headed up the path to Sadie’s home. He knew that horse - it was Vera, who waved at him once she saw him. Arthur finished hammering in a nail to one of logs of the fence, the harsh winter snow having damaged several of the logs. He went to go meet Vera along the path, a bit disgruntled she had sought him out.

“There you are,” she said, her lips and cheeks red against the snowy background. Her black hair was tied loosely back and she wore her dark leather jacket. “My bounty is out this way and I was wondering if you wanted to tag along.”

Arthur held up a hand, shielding the sun invading his vision. “You didn’t have to, Vera. I can find my own bounties.”

“Come on! It’ll be fast. You’ll be back here in no time. The bounty is just half a day’s ride south of here.”

Arthur scratched his chin, slightly annoyed he had been so easy to find. “Wait outside the house while I get my things ready,” he said. Faster he could get this over with, the faster she could go away. If he just told her to leave, she’d be suspicious. He made his way over to the main house where Sadie and Abigail had begun to prep lunch.

“I’m headed out on a bounty,” Arthur declared as he walked in. “I’ll be back late tonight.” 

“Again?” Abigail asked him. “You gotta be mindful of the law down in Strawberry.”

“I have been. This’ll be my last job for a while in this town,” Arthur said. He didn’t want to get comfortable around the law. They’d turn him in the moment they found out Arthur was an outlaw. “But Vera’s here, and she’s sayin’ it’s gonna be a quick job. Sorry, Sadie, didn’t mean for her to come here.”

“It’s fine,” Sadie said, though her brows were wrinkled in a disapproving way. 

She stopped Arthur once he had his bags packed and ready to leave out the door. She pulled him aside and spoke in a low voice, a hand on his arm, “Don’t run yourself too hard, Arthur. You been in and out for several weeks. You barely take a break. It’s only a matter of weeks until you wanna find your gang, you should take it easy until then.”

Arthur stared down at her, knowing she was right. She knew about his nightmares, his lack of sleep, his constant moving around. He hadn’t been able to sit still while he lived on the ranch. The bounties were a distraction to keep himself busy. “This is the last time, Sadie. No more. After this, we’ll focus on the O’Driscolls. I’ll still promise that.” 

Her grip tightened on his arm at the mention of the O’Driscolls. “Fine.” She let go. 

Arthur left the building and headed to the stable, Vera following him. “This is where you been staying for the winter? How do you know Mrs. Adler?”

“Old friends. Who is the bounty?” Arthur asked her as he saddled Athena. 

“A nobody by the name of Jonathon Mink. A petty thief, but he managed to avoid the law. Should be easy.” 

“You mind if I don’t ride back to Strawberry with you?” Arthur asked her. “I’d prefer to stay close to home.” He led Athena outside the stable and hopped onto her back. “Lead the way.”

Vera gave him a grin and they left the Adler Ranch. Arthur hadn’t even said goodbye to John, who was out hunting that morning. John would be a little peeved he wasn’t asked to tag along. 

“There’s a prison wagon we can drop the bounty off at,” Vera said once Adler Ranch was left behind them. “They’ll even pay us there, too.”

Arthur gave a nod. “Fine by me. You sure been keepin’ yourself busy. How’d that bank escort go?”

“It was uneventful. Paid well, though. You missed out.”

“You mentioned you had a room back in St. Denis. Why are you stickin’ all the way out here?”

“Oh, I have my reasons.” She gave him a wide smile. “Maybe someday I’ll go back.”

There was more to her, but Arthur didn’t feel like prodding. The several bounties they had gone on together had been successful, and he’d been friendly with her, but he was hesitant to get too close. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t entirely trust her just yet. 

The snow disappeared the farther south they traveled. A cloudy sky kept them company as they went, threatening to spit out rain at any moment. They kept a steady pace, confident they would reach the area before late afternoon. 

Once they arrived at the supposed area, they searched around the hills of trees, looking for any sign of a camp. The forested area was sparse of any signs of a campfire or tent, or any life besides wildlife. Cold raindrops began to sputter, and before they knew it, they were caught in a downpour, accompanied by dark clouds. 

“Shall we wait in there?” Vera asked, her voice high pitched to be heard over the sputtering of the rain. She held a hand against her hat, the wind billowing harshly. 

Arthur caught sight of a small cabin in the midst of the trees. “Let’s go!” He said. Athena trotted over to the cabin, dancing nervously against the thunder. Arthur hopped off and made sure Athena was tethered so she wouldn’t bolt; Vera followed his lead and did the same to her horse. 

The cabin was clearly abandoned, yet in good shape. The walls and roof held up against the buckets of rain. It was a hunters cabin, with a few tools left askew among the floor and one shelf. Old, ratty animal skins were piled on the one small cot against the wall. 

Arthur went to work cleaning out the small stove in the cabin, considering themselves lucky at the firewood stacked in a pile next to it. He was all too aware of the small space between him and Vera, and the only place for sitting was the cot. He kept his focus on building the fire. 

“Once the storm passes over, we’ll continue on,” Arthur told her once the fire was lit. He took off his jacket and laid it on the ground for it to dry out easier. 

Vera had already shrugged out of her jacket and vest, revealing a simple corseted shirt. Her arms were bare, revealing smooth pale skin. She sat on the small cot and patted the spot next to her. “You can sit, you know,” she said. 

Arthur did, back stiff, an awkward feeling in his gut. He took off his hat and shook it off, droplets scattering on the floor. It was obvious Vera had puppy eyes for him and the small room wasn’t helping. He hadn’t been left alone in close quarters with a woman in a long time, and a pretty one at that. Well, there was Sadie, but… she was in mourning. It had felt inappropriate to think of anything… romantic with her. She had a fire to her that was easy to get along with, and she was beginning to open up to him despite her grieving. 

It had been nice to find a friend, despite the chaoticness of his life right then. 

“What are you thinking of?” Vera asked him, leaning her shoulder close to him. 

Arthur blinked. He hadn’t been thinking of Vera. He had been thinking of Sadie’s freckles and how her lips curled in a light smile whenever she saw him. “Nothin’. Just anxious to get back, I guess.”

“Why?”

Arthur focused on his hat he was fidgeting with, his arms on his knees. He rubbed out a scuff on his father’s hat and said, “No real reason. Just been runnin’ around, that’s all.”

“Well… it doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon. Here…” Vera leaned down to her pack and withdrew a whiskey bottle, plus two wooden shot glasses. “Always come prepared.” She stood up and went over to the tiny table where she twisted open the whiskey and poured two shot glasses.

“Sure like your whiskey, don’t you?” Arthur asked her as she handed him a shot. He set aside the hat and admired the deep amber. He didn’t look at her as she sat down, the cot shifting lightly with the added weight. 

She pressed her leg against his, closing the few inches between them. “Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass against his. She downed her shot and Arthur followed suit, the liquid warming him to his core. 

“So… you have to know why I keep asking you along,” Vera said, her voice silky smooth like a purr. “We make a good team.”

“We do, but I have other priorities, Vera. Wasn’t plannin’ on bounty hunting full time.”

“I could use a partner.”

Arthur turned to look at her. “I-”

“What’s the Mrs. Adler mean to you? I’m sure she’s lonely without a husband.”

“Vera-” he breathed out once he felt her hand caress his thigh. “I-” She advanced on him and he put his hands on her hips, holding her at bay. He wasn’t used to a woman being so bold with him. “I said I ain’t interested.”

Her smile told him it meant little to her. “How about a small sample?” She pushed against his hands and sat directly on his lap, cradling his hips between her knees. 

It had been a long time for Arthur, being this close to a woman. He was trying to think of words to refuse her, else he was just going to shove her on the ground and leave. As she grasped his hand with hers and pressed his hand against her breast, he tensed. “Vera, I won’t.”

“And why not?” She cooed, her eyes devouring him. She pressed her other hand against his shirt collar, tracing the chest hairs peeking out. She leaned in, hovering her lips just above his. “What are you afraid of, Arthur?”

He grabbed both of her hands and forcefully shoved them away. She tensed on his lap, looking stricken. “Not now,” he said. “Get off.”

Her red lips turned to a pout. “But-“

The door burst open and dark cloaked men piled into the cabin, rifles and pistols at the ready. Only giving a moment of surprise at the men’s sudden entrance, Arthur practically shoved off Vera as he reached for his pistol still at his hip, though in the closeness of the small cabin, he was too late. 

A shot rang out and Arthur dropped his pistol as a sharp pain entered his side, sending him back against the bed. Blearily he looked down at his side, a cascade of blood pouring out of his side. He placed a hand over the wound, cursing lightly. Well,  _ damn. _

He heard Vera call out, “Oh shit!” and witnessed her being smacked in the face with a butt of a rifle. Arthur tried to catch her in his grogginess, only finding himself meeting the same fate as her, the rifle smacking him in the nose, casting him into endless oblivion. 

* * *

A sharp object connected to his side, jolting him awake. Blinding pain seared through his stomach and he gritted his teeth as he pressed a hand against his side. His hands were sticky with dried blood, though his fingers felt a bandage tied around his waist. Arthur opened his eyes in a squint, at a loss for what had happened. His shirt had been removed and his long johns had been cut away around his stomach, revealing a dirty white bandage heavily steeped with blood. 

He was outside, next to a campfire. Tents were set up all around him and he made out dark forms moving back and forth, in the midst of setting up camp. Where was Vera?

“You finally awake, Arthur Morgan?” 

That voice. Arthur stilled. He hadn’t heard it in years, ever since - he titled his head and saw the man leaning over him, the fire casting an orange hue against his body. 

“Colm,” Arthur said in a low greeting. “I take it those were your O’Driscoll boys?”

The older man gave him a smirk. “Clearly. We received… information that you might be in these mountains. Proved to be right. And with a woman! Thought those weren’t your type, Arthur?”

Arthur’s face burned crimson in anger. He never liked the fact that Colm had been privy to Arthur’s personal life, all due to the fact that Colm used to be involved with Dutch’s gang back when Arthur was a teenager. Arthur ignored Colm’s comment and asked, “Where did you receive this information?”

“An old friend of yours, actually. He’s not with us right now, as a matter of fact, he had some loose ends to check out in Strawberry.”

Arthur still didn’t know who he meant and Colm was purposely being vague. 

Colm knelt down beside Arthur and held his hat in his hands. A teasing glint reflected in his eyes. “I am sorry, though, to hear about Dutch. Sounds like his  _ plans  _ finally failed him.”

“Sounds like the Pinkertons will have to chase you down next,” Arthur responded sourly. 

“On the contrary. You handed yourself over to us so nicely. The Pinkertons will be thrilled to have you turned into them.” 

_ Made sense _ , Arthur thought darkly. It was the reason they had cleaned and bandaged his wound. They wanted him alive, after all, so they could collect the bounty in full. Arthur let out a small, disgruntled huff. He hadn’t expected to run into the O’Driscolls. There’d been no sign around and Vera had said -

“Where’s Vera?” Arthur demanded. 

Colm pointed across the campfire where Vera sat against a pole, cross legged with her hands tied behind her back. She was wide awake, her eyes filled with venom as she stared across to Arthur. 

“I’ll leave you be for now. Don’t run, Arthur,” Colm said with a wink. 

Colm knew full well Arthur couldn’t run with a wound still fresh. Arthur did his best to sit up, noticing one O’Driscoll standing by to watch over him. One lone guard to watch over Arthur, plus they were surrounded by at least ten other O’Driscolls. A grim feeling.

Arthur held back a gasp of pain as he stood, the ground dancing slightly below him. He ignored the blurriness in his vision as he moved closer to Vera, then sank to the ground and onto his back, gasping for breath as the pain drifted over him. 

“I heard everything,” Vera ground out after a moment. “Arthur Morgan? I’ve heard of you. You were part of that gang that disappeared once they caught the leader.”

“I’m sorry for lyin’ to you,” Arthur said, opening his eyes and focusing on her face. A nasty bruise had formed on the right side of her face and her eyes were puffy, as if she’d been crying. Her lipstick and makeup was smeared. 

“What about Mr. Adler? Did you kill him so you could live there?” she snapped.

“No!” Arthur snapped back. “The O’Driscolls killed him. I rescued Mrs. Adler and together we got rid of them. She’s allowed us to live there ever since. And yes, she knows who we are. She trusts us. We ain’t like the O’Driscolls, Vera. We were good.”

“I read the papers. That poor girl in Blackwater-”

“That was Dutch. He’s dead.”

Vera gave him a long, hard stare, as if she were trying to figure him out. “And what did he mean, that women not being your type?”

Arthur let out an irritated sigh. “This ain’t the time to be talkin-”

“Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. I almost forced you and you didn’t want it-”

“This is just a bad time,” Arthur cut in. “Vera, you are beautiful and I am - was - very flattered, but I am wounded, these O’Driscolls want to turn me in, and you are tied up. This ain’t the time!”

“Well, what are we gonna do? They took everything!” Vera whispered violently to him.

Arthur licked his lips and spoke in a lowered voice, “We wait, Vera. I was supposed to be back tonight. We have friends, and one who won't be too happy to find O’Driscolls. We’ll just have to survive until then.”

“Fine.” Vera turned away from him, pouting.

“Well, fine!” Arthur replied back and turned away. They could continue their conversation later, once they were out of the clutches of the O’Driscolls. 


	13. Chapter 13

_ Sadie _

Sadie was waiting for Arthur to return. Abigail and John had retired to their room with Jack, leaving Sadie alone with the cackling fire. She had an old book in her lap, one of her favorites, yet had not opened it once that night. Something felt wrong. She didn’t like the fact that Vera had showed up, unannounced, to her doorstep. What was Arthur thinking, anyways? He was supposed to be keeping his presence on the down low.

Sadie had seen O’Driscolls, Pinkertons, and now bounty hunters. For living so remotely, she sure was getting her fair share of people that year. Yet, without Jake, she had never felt more alone. Abigail had John and Jack… Sadie had only herself. Maybe that was how Arthur felt. Maybe that was why she had begun to value his company. He was a dedicated man, if a bit lonely. The amount of love and care he showed toward the others was powerful. It was one of the reasons why Sadie trusted him so well.

And now he was running about with a stranger on a mission, and Sadie felt oddly left out. She was itching to go along with him, itching to dig deep into this hole she felt in her chest, left empty with Jake’s death. 

The night slowly crept to midnight. The fire had simmered down and Sadie buried herself under the blankets. Arthur still hadn’t returned. She forced herself to close her eyes and tried to sleep, though she knew come morning, if he hadn’t returned she would be trailing after him. 

Her worries faded as she fell asleep, only to be woken in the bright early morning by John creeping out of the bedroom, dressed in his jeans, shirt, and suspenders. 

“Thought I’d go huntin’ with Arthur early this morning,” John said in a whisper to Sadie once she peeked her head over the couch. 

“He ain’t back yet,” she replied and pushed aside her warm blankets. The fire had died and she needed to build it back up. 

“What? He didn’t come home?” 

“Vera must be quite the distraction,” Sadie murmured as she began folding the blankets. 

John paused by the window, arms folded. He had begun to let his beard grow in, the scars still showing predominantly through his beard face. “That’s not like him,” John said, thoughtful. 

“It’s clear Vera was… interested in him.” Sadie finished her chore with the blankets and set to building the fire. “He’s a grown man, he can make his own choices.”

John scoffed. “Sadie, if there’s one thing you should know about Arthur is that he doesn’t… doesn’t allow himself to be with people. When I was young, Arthur was taken with this one woman, and it didn’t work out. Ever since then…” John shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Well, I won’t go into his past, but he has never had a relationship since. If he had, he kept silent about it. This ain’t like him at all, if he ran off to be with Vera for the night.”

Sadie noticed a light flush on John’s cheeks. “Do you think he’s in trouble?”

“I think he’s in trouble from Vera, to be sure.” John lightly grinned. “She’s gonna be mighty disappointed. Even I couldn’t get that man to open up to me. I doubt he’s gonna be open to a bounty hunter he just met a month ago.”

The fire came to life after Sadie held a match to the kindling and she sat back, soaking in the heat. “I’m gonna ride after him.”

“I agree. I’ll let Abigail know.” John went into the bedroom and shut the door quietly behind him. 

Once Sadie was dressed in her heavy winter jacket and boots, her hair tied back and a scarf wrapped around her neck, she was ready to go. She packed a small amount of food for her and John both while he saddled up their horses, their guns belted on. Sadie had one pistol at her hip and silently hoped she wouldn’t have to use it, that Arthur would be okay. But then again, the bitterness in her heart ached for her to grab the gun, pull the trigger, and seek revenge against those who wronged her.

In a way, she had already. She had killed the man who had killed Jake. She had done away with the men who’d taken the most pleasure out of raping her. All that was left was to take care of the remaining O’Driscolls. 

Once she and John were on their horses, they headed south, the only clue they had of Arthur’s path. The snow was still thick in the mountains and the trail was easy enough to follow, yet the further they traveled, the less the snow was and more of a muddy, slippery path. Sadie kept an eye on the two sets of tracks, easy enough to track in the snow and the mud. 

“It wasn’t too far away,” Sadie said after an hour in. “Maybe a couple hours more.”

John nodded in agreement. “We’re lucky the rain hadn’t washed away most of the footprints.”

“We are with that. Let’s keep going.” 

Anxiety started to settle in the pit of Sadie’s stomach and she kept drinking water to settle herself. Arthur and Vera hadn’t even trailed back up their path. They were still somewhere in the hills where there was little to no civilization. 

“There,” Sadie pointed out after a few hours. The trail peeled off the path and into a heavily foliaged area. She and John pushed their way through the brush until they came across a cabin, the door pushed open. 

“There’s many footsteps here,” Sadie said once she hopped off. “This is way too many.”

John grabbed his pistol and held it up. He made his way to the cabin and aimed the gun inside as he went. He called out to Sadie and motioned for her to come in. 

“What is it?” she said. She entered through the doorway, nose wrinkling in disgust at the disarray of everything - and stopped once she caught sight of the fresh blood on the cot. Her eyes trailed down to a smashed bottle of whiskey, the heavy scent still in the air. Two wooden shot glasses were scattered on the floor, implying that Arthur and Vera had stopped here, perhaps to get out of the rain.

There had been a fight and Arthur and Vera had lost it.

“That’s a lot of blood,” John said, his voice husky with a tinge of worry. “You think-”

“No. They would’ve left the body here. They took them,” Sadie said, not knowing  _ who _ they were. “We’ll follow the tracks, but we’ll have to keep an eye out.”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

They traveled through the brush with all the more caution. With a mix of hooves and men, Sadie guessed perhaps six or seven men had ambushed them. It wasn’t a good number, especially if Arthur or Vera had been wounded in the process. They had been taken, implying it wasn’t random bandits. No, it had to be the work of a gang, and there was only one gang in the mountains lately.

O’Driscolls.

Sadie’s blood boiled as she continued on, anger coursing through her. After all this time, they were still here, living nearby less than a day’s ride away. Her life, Jake’s life, all merely a game to them. She wouldn’t have it. She wouldn’t have Arthur’s life be taken away too, not while she was still alive and breathing. 

“We’re close,” she determined, having hopped off her horse to check the freshness of the prints. “Very close.” She went to her horse and pulled down her rifle. It was time to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to see. 

John walked behind her, his pistol drawn and his eyes furious. 

Together they stayed low to the ground, listening for any movement or any sign of the gang. All the footsteps led into the hills, headed down the slope and into a small clearing. Sadie noticed this is where tracks split. A light sprinkle of rain began to fall, muffling her footsteps. 

Sure enough, they spotted a lone O’Driscoll, rifle in hand, standing as a lookout. In the distance, Sadie could see tents set up and people moving to and fro, all clad in the dark jacket’s the O’Driscolls wore. She didn’t give it a second thought. The moment the O’Driscoll lookout turned away, she took a few silent steps and ran her dagger across his neck. She ignored the blood spurting as she caught him as he fell, gurgling, and set him softly on the forest floor.

One down, many more to go. 

John and Sadie did a complete circle around the camp, nestled in a small clearing of trees. John had found one O’Driscoll and ended him the same way Sadie had dealt with the other one. They found a spot where they could stop and observe the make-shift camp. 

John let out a small gasp. “That’s Colm,” he breathed, pointing to an older, grey haired man. “He’s the leader of them.”

Sadie would reserve a bullet for him, then. Some of the O’Driscolls were standing around a fire, eating their dinner. She shifted to another spot and peered down on the tent. She gripped her fists when she caught sight of Arthur and Vera, their backs to each other, hands tied behind their back. Even from far away, Sadie could tell how pale and sickly Arthur looked. He was shirtless, displaying his well contoured muscles and a thick, dirty bandage around his waist and chest. 

Vera seemed to be faring better. Sadie could hear the string of curses Vera was screaming at the men swarming her and Arthur. At the sight of Vera’s rips and tears of her clothing, the O’Driscolls hadn’t been kind to her, either. 

“Where’d Colm go?” John murmured. He was aiming down his sights to the group of men. 

Sadie had been distracted by Arthur. She looked around until she saw him and two other men trotting off into the forest opposite of them.

“Shit. We’ll have to let him go,” John growled. “Let’s rescue these two fools, shall we?”

“Let’s.” Sadie lifted her rifle and aimed at the man taunting Arthur. The O’Driscoll leaned down and had grabbed Arthur by the hair, forcing his head back. Sadie took a deep breath and pulled the trigger and Arthur was splattered in a rain of blood. He’d have time to clean that up later. There were other O’Driscolls to kill in the meantime.

John provided cover as Sadie darted forward, jumping down the small hill and into the clearing of the tents. One O’Driscoll dropped to John’s gun, and another to Sadie’s pistol. She took cover against one of their wagons, the wood splintering as bullets rained against her. One by one, the onslaught stopped as John took out the two men pinning Sadie against the wagon. Sadie poked her head out and chased after the O’Driscoll running away on foot, the last of the men. Once in range, she slowed down and pulled the trigger once more, dropping the O’Driscoll down to the ground in a heartbeat. 

Her gun smoking, she turned to look at the scene of the massacre. If Colm was riding away, he’d have heard the gunfight. She motioned for John to stay up there to provide cover while she went over to Arthur and Vera. 

Arthur was staring at her, open mouthed. “You came,” he said, his voice weak. 

“I wouldn’t leave you with these damn O’Driscolls,” Sadie replied back and started cutting the rope around his wrists with her tiny knife she kept on her gunbelt. “How’d they find you, anyways?”

“Caught us when we were hiding in the rain. They must’ve caught sight of us first,” Vera said. 

Sadie finished cutting through the rope and set to cutting Vera’s. Arthur sank forward a little bit, wincing and holding his side. Bruises littered his arms, side, and face. His nose didn’t look to be broken, but his right eye was puffy and swollen. 

Vera was in a bit better condition, though the front of her shirt was torn. “You okay?” Sadie asked her. She knew what the O’Driscolls could do. 

Vera gulped and rubbed her wrists once the rope was undone. “I’m fine. Just… they got a little handsy, and nothing more to it. Arthur, though…” 

“I’m fine,” Arthur said hoarsely, struggling to get up. John appeared at his side and grabbed Arthur by putting his shoulder under Arthur’s arm. 

“Colm won’t be coming back. He won’t risk it,” John reasoned. “Let’s get you home, Arthur.” 

Sadie stepped to Arthur’s side and grabbed his other arm. “You welcome to come back with us,” she said to Vera. “Get you taken care of.”

“No.” Vera shook her head vigorously. “Now that I know this is Arthur Morgan - I can’t. I’m a bounty hunter. I ain’t the most moral one, but I am not going to run around with an outlaw.” Vera hugged her arms to herself as a breeze came through, her black hair blowing lightly over her shoulders. “I can’t.”

“Vera, I am sorry,” Arthur said. Sadie winced at his voice. It was raspy and his skin was burning. If his wounds weren’t taken care of soon… “Sorry for lyin’. Let us go our own way, and we won’t ever bother you again.”

Vera looked between him and John. “Is he why you wouldn’t be with me? Is he your lover?”

“What?” John sputtered. “No! Goddammit, lady, this ain’t the time. We gotta go!”

“Athena’s over there,” Arthur said, motioning with a head tilt. “I can ride. Just give me something to dull the pain.”

Vera was the one to respond to that and grabbed her horse’s reins and Athena. She brought over the horse and John helped Arthur into the saddle, the process slow. 

Sadie searched around the area until she found a bottle of whiskey and handed it up to Arthur, who looked like he was about to fall asleep on the saddle. “Drink this.”

Arthur complied and drank several gulps with a grimace. He wiped his mouth afterwards and said to Vera, “All I ask is that you keep who I am a secret. It ain’t… the gang is no more. I don’t…”

“Fine.” Vera’s eyes flashed with a warning. “You owe me for this, Arthur Morgan. I’ll be seeing you again.”

“Fine.” 

Vera got on her horse and left the clearing, leaving the three alone. 

After spending a few seconds looting the O’Driscolls, which only offered a couple bucks and a pocket watch, Sadie and John led Arthur back to where they left the horses. It was a slow process and they had to keep an eye on Arthur staying on his horse. Traveling with a wound such as his was dangerous, but they couldn’t stay around in case Colm made his way back with more men. 

Once they retrieved their horses, they were on their long trek back. Sadie made sure Arthur ate some of the food she had brought and drank some water along the way. At one point, she hopped on the horse behind him to keep a firm grasp on him. He was a big man, a bit tipsy, and nearly falling asleep on the saddle. She kept her arms around him as tenderly as she could. 

It was night when they returned and found Abigail pacing nervously in the cabin. It took a matter of moments to get Arthur settled on the couch and Abigail began heating up water to clean his wounds. 

“They did a poor job of this,” Sadie said snidely as she pulled away the bandage. It stuck to his wound and she had to be careful prying it off. She dipped a rag into the hot water and wrung out the droplets. Only a few dabs at Arthur’s wound and the cloth was already bloodied. 

Arthur, white as a sheet, squirmed as she cleaned out the wound with alcohol. He had several deep scratches as if someone had taken a knife to his skin along his torso. Sadie cleaned those with alcohol as well and determined she would have to stitch them up. “Need more whiskey?” she asked him. 

“No,” Arthur said, his voice slurring. “Already too much.”

John and Abigail were chatting softly at the dinner table, leaving Sadie to focus on Arthur. 

“How’d they find you?” She asked him.

“... left my guard down. Vera, she... I don’t even know if there was a bounty,” Arthur admitted. 

“She’s a sly one, I’ll admit.” Vera had mentioned John and Arthur being lovers. That was news. It wasn’t Sadie’s place, but she was mighty curious.

She didn’t even have to ask. Arthur said, “She thought John and I…”

It was a sudden silence in the room. Sadie’s eyes flicked to John, who was beet red and staring at his hands. Abigail who leaned back in her chair, waiting for John to say something. Arthur and John both opened their mouths to speak, only to be cut off by Abigail. 

“Oh, you two. You never settled this between yourselves,” Abigail started, her voice soft. “Everybody knew, everybody in the gang. You two went off for a month or two and when you came back, you avoided each other like the plague. And I know, you, John, liked to dabble with other men. I never minded. Never have. It came as a surprise to me about Arthur, but not really. You always kept to yourself, Arthur, never let anyone in, yet you cared so much about everyone else.”

Sadie bit her lip as she padded down the wound. This was not an appropriate discussion when Arthur was gravely injured and drunk from the whiskey, but it wasn’t her place to say. 

“It’s because Arthur doesn’t let anyone in,” John grounded out. “Even after all this time, I still don’t know why I found you drunk and out of your mind in that town. You wouldn’t tell me. I doubt you told anyone.”

Arthur couldn't see John from where he laid on the couch. He titled his head toward John’s direction. “I’m sorry if you think I took advantage of you... ” Arthur drawled.

“-you didn’t,” John said. “You just didn’t let me in.”

A pregnant pause settled into the room. Sadie began cleaning the deep scratches on Arthur’s chest and arms, not wanting to butt in anymore to their private conversation. 

“Her name was Eliza,” Arthur finally said in the lowest whisper, as if admitting a secret he didn’t want anyone to hear. He closed his eyes as he talked. “She and I… well, we spent a night together. Thought nothing of it. Came back a few months later, found out she was pregnant with our son. She called him Isaac.”

“What?” John demanded, eyes wide. Abigail, too, had her mouth open in disbelief. 

“Over the next five years, when I said I’d be scouting out leads, hunting, I was… but I always made a trip back to Eliza and Isaac. I had to support them. Eliza didn’t wanna come with me, said the outlaw life wasn’t for her. I didn’t blame her, but she was strugglin’ with money. Bein’ a single mother, she wasn’t regarded too kindly in her town.”

Everyone kept silent, not wanting to stop the always silent and stoic Arthur from talking. “I loved my son. He had her brown hair, my eyes. He was funny. Eliza, she…. She was pretty, tough... “ the words were beginning to heavily slur, the whiskey taking effect. His eyes began to flutter. “When Isaac was five, I visited them, like I always done. Found their crosses instead. They’d been killed.” 

“Arthur…” Abigail said, her voice full of sadness. 

Sadie reached over and brushed Arthur’s hair back, his skin still feverish against hers. The wounds were mostly cleaned up and all Arthur had to do was rest now. His skin was still black and blue along his bare chest and face, and luckily his legs seemed to be spared of any bruises. He’d heal, he would just need to finally rest.

John moved to sit beside Sadie and placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “And that’s when I found you, in the town.”

Arthur nodded lightly. 

“Shit, Arthur, did anyone know?” John asked. His usually, husky voice was pained.

“Hosea.”

“Why did you keep it a secret? I would have understood!” John demanded, clearly angry at the news Arthur had held back from him.

“I didn’t want Dutch to know.”

John’s mouth set into a grim line. 

“You... “ John stood up, wagging a finger at Arthur, and stormed out of the cabin. Abigail let out a long sigh and grabbed her shawl. She followed after him after giving a small, sad smile to Sadie.

“It doesn’t get any easier, does it?” Sadie said quietly as she tucked blankets in around Arthur. “You alive. I am sorry you lost your son, your Eliza. I do think it’s time to start letting people in, Arthur. You have people who care for you. Stop pushing them away. There isn’t a Dutch anymore to prevent that.”

Arthur stared at her, contemplating. Sweat began pouring down his white face as the fever swept over him. She dabbed at his face with a clean, cool rag. “You had the front row seat to my pain, Arthur. Yet you’ve been the nicest outlaw I ever met and didn’t shy away when I needed help. I see the good in you. I just don’t think you believe it.” 

“I know what it’s like to lose a child,” Sadie continued, her voice soft. Arthur opened his mouth in a small amount of dismay, but she continued, “A little girl. Nearly made it full term, but… at least I got to share my pain with Jake. We had each other. We both mourned. Now I think it’s time for someone to take care of you. You should rest, Arthur.” She leaned over and kissed him on his fevered brow and when she pulled away, his eyes were shut, his eyebrows relaxed. He breathed softly as the whiskey finally lulled him to sleep. 

Sadie gathered up the bloodied rags and medical supplies. Never once had she thought an outlaw would be this complex. His past scars had been laid bare for the three of them to see. 

She did realize one thing about herself that day, however. A low anger had settled in her gut ever since she learned Arthur had been taken by the O’Driscolls. She wouldn’t rest until Colm was swinging from a noose, and it was time to set plans in motion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thank you so much for the reviews <3 I wanna apologize for how slow I'm uploading the chapters, I'm in the middle of editing my novel and my art and that's taking a lot of my concentration. Too many hobbies I swear...


	14. Chapter 14

_ Arthur  _

Arthur awoke in the midst of feverish dreams, his head pounding like heavy drums. Every part of him ached, an instant reminder of what had been done, the pain several men had brought to him. He had been kicked, punched, …, and sliced. Hours of enduring taunts and jeers. Vera, too, had endured the same as him, and there was little doubt she hated Arthur for getting her involved. 

At least she was safe, though where she had run off to, Arthur didn’t know. It was his best guess she would run to the law, turn him in for the outlaw that he was. The other part of him defended her, knowing she wouldn’t turn him in for the sake of their friendship, whatever was left of it. The friendship was over, that was clear. 

Oddly enough, Arthur was okay with that. He wasn’t ready to let someone in like her. She wasn’t a part of his gang, she didn’t agree with who he was. It felt like a relief, knowing he didn’t have to worry about her further involvement. He had enough to worry about with his own family and couldn’t afford distraction.

He fluttered his eyes open, his right eye puffy and tender. In the darkness of the room, everything was blurry, the fire having died down. He spotted a dark form out of the corner of his eye and he nearly jumped, his heart thundering. Once Arthur’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, the form still not budging, he found John leaning over on his knees in the chair next to the couch, hands folded together. John was staring at him with grim eyes and a frown. 

“You coulda told me,” John said, his husky voice full of hurt. “We gave ourselves to each other, Arthur. I… had never seen you like that. Thought it meant something, that you would tell me back then. But you hadn’t.”

Arthur stared at him, thoughts whirling to what John meant. Tell him what? “I…” Arthur paused and closed his mouth, mouth dry, as the memories from the night before sank in. His stomach twisted. He had admitted his deepest, darkest secret. A secret he had tried to keep hidden for over ten years.

“It woulda been okay,” John was saying. “I woulda helped you through it. Hell, you coulda told everyone about Eliza from the start.”

“No,” Arthur croaked out. “You wouldn’t know the pressure Dutch put on me when I was courtin’ Mary, John. The accusations he gave me when he thought I was leavin’ the gang for her. I nearly did. Did you know that? But Dutch convinced me to come back, and Mary had it with me. Back then, I thought Dutch needed me, I thought it was more important than anything. Even…” Arthur’s voice cracked. “I didn’t wanna face Dutch again. I hid my own son from him, and it cost Eliza and Isaac their life.” 

John looked pained, his eyebrows scrunched together.

Arthur closed his eyes. “I was a mess when you found me. I was desperate, lonely, and tried to fill a void with you. And yet, I still couldn’t say it. I am sorry for that, John. You were young, and I…”

John shook his head and leaned back in his chair. He ran a hand over his nose, lost in his thoughts. “I admired you, Arthur, and I still do. Believe me, I didn’t hold back with you either. But I got Abigail now, and I…” 

Arthur waited for him to continue. 

“I can take care of her,” he declared in a low, confident voice. “We ain’t gonna run no more. You carried all this guilt for stayin’ with the gang, caring for people like they were your responsibility. Well, Arthur…” John took in a deep breath. “Dutch ain’t here. Will never be again. Gang’s done for good, and you know it. Hosea hadn’t believed in the gang for several years now. You know he ain’t gonna bring the gang back. So you ain’t gotta worry about us no more.” John stood then and leaned over to place a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “We ain’t your responsibility. I’ll take care of them. I can promise you that.” He gave Arthur’s shoulder a pat and left for his room. 

Arthur should have been proud of John that moment. Should have praised John for finally accepting his family, for turning his back on Dutch’s ghost. In reality, it was like a knife was wrenched into Arthur’s heart. He shut his eyes against the feeling, a whirlwind of abandonment and loss. He didn’t know if he could face being alone.

Arthur fell back into his fevered dreams. 

* * *

Days passed of cold shakes, fevers, and near hallucinations. The wound on his stomach festered and Athur could barely keep any food down. Days passed of Sadie tirelessly at his side, cleaning his wounds and forcing him to drink some god awful tea. It was like his body had finally given up on him and wrecked through his skin and bones, forcing him to settle down for once, to take a break. Arthur just wished it wasn’t wrecking his body in the process.

The hallucinations tormented him. Dutch was calling him son, praising Arthur for who he was and what he did. Dutch had been like a father, had provided a family, food, and a way of life off the streets. Yet it was always a double edged sword. He kept seeing Dutch standing over him, screaming at him for leaving and placing guilt after guilt onto Arthur’s shoulders.

Dutch’s face would be replaced with his own father’s. Lyle Morgan, a petty thief, hung for his crimes. A fate Arthur was bound to have. A fate just waiting around the corner. 

He saw Mary, accusing him of choosing a gang over her. Eliza, sad, beautiful Eliza, holding their son. All just out of his reach.

One of the mornings when he woke, he found Hosea staring down at him. It was strange, in all his hallucinations, he hadn’t dreamed of Hosea, of the older man who was Dutch’s other, kinder half. Arthur reached out and his hand was gripped firmly with a smaller, calloused hand. 

He was real. “Hosea?” Arthur said, his voice groggy. 

Hosea let go of Arthur’s hand and pulled up a chair. He sat down next to Arthur and leaned back, his eyes judging Arthur. Arthur looked him over, noticing he looked older, with prominent wrinkles under his tired eyes. Hosea’s face appeared gaunt like he had lost some weight. “Hey, Arthur,” Hosea said in response.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked him. For once, Arthur’s head was clear. It was daylight outside, with birds chirping in the distance and a cool breeze bringing scents of pine with it. It was only him and Hosea in the cabin.

“From my understanding, you’ve been out for a week,” Hosea began, his voice stern. “Ran into the O’Driscolls, did you?”

Arthur grimly nodded. 

“Well, I like this place. Mrs. Adler has been a lovely host.” Hosea smiled fondly. “Sounds like you owe her plenty.”

“I owe her my life,” Arthur said. It was the honest truth. He probably wouldn’t be alive if she and John had come to rescue him. “How did you find us?”

“I did a bit of digging in Strawberry, tracked you here. I’ll be straight, son. The gang is finished. I sent everyone on to find their own way.”

Disbelief fluttered through Arthur. He hadn’t thought John would be right about that. He had thought there would be a gang to return to, that he could continue what he had done all his life. “What do…” Arthur began, then faltered. 

“Start with something familiar. Sadie told me about how you plan to track down the O’Driscolls. While that is… vigilant, I don’t want you falling back into that life. Leave that to me,” Hosea suggested. “I don’t want you wasting your life, or hers, tracking down a foe when you are seriously outnumbered.”

“I don’t…” Arthur licked his dry lips. He hadn’t realized how much he was craving water. His throat felt too dry. “What about everyone else?”

“Well, Lenny’s been so kind to ride with me. He’s a good kid. I have a few loose ends to tie up, myself.”

“I could join you-”

Hosea shook his head. “I am not dragging you down again, Arthur. Lenny and I have an understanding. Once my goal is complete, Lenny and I will part ways.”

Left out again. The words burned in Arthur’s ears. 

“Everyone split. Karen and Sean ran off to cause chaos on their own. Mary-Beth and Tilly left for St. Denis, along with Miss Grimshaw. Javier and Bill took off. Charles is gone. Mr. Pearson found work in Rhodes. Uncle’s somewhere in Rhodes too, I believe. Strauss and Swanson disappeared. I’m afraid Jenny, Mac, and Davey didn’t make it. They were killed the same night Dutch was. We are scattered enough the Pinkertons will have nothing left to trail,” Hosea said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I’m only staying until this afternoon, and then I am headed off, myself. I understand the Pinkertons have already been through here once, I don’t want it to happen again. I’ll make sure Colm doesn’t track you here, either.”

Arthur ran a hand down his face at the loss of Jenny and the others. He had thought mostly everyone had escaped that night. He took a deep breath and braced his hands on the couch to push himself up to a sitting position. His limbs and stomach protested as he swung his bare feet to the floor. The wood felt cool beneath his feet and the breeze chilled his bare arms. He looked down at the crisp clean bandage against his skin and the faded, yellowing bruises. If the O’Driscolls had their way, he’d had been beaten to a bloodied pulp before being handed off to the Pinkertons. 

“You’ve looked better,” Hosea commented. “Give it a few more weeks and you’ll be good as new.”

Weeks. Arthur knew in his gut Hosea was right, despite how anxious he was to move around. “Where’s Lenny?” 

“He’s outside. I’ll go get him.” 

Arthur reached over and grabbed a flannel shirt that was draped over the couch. He shrugged it on, his shoulders and stomach protesting at his movements. It had been a strained week of barely moving from the couch except to awkwardly take care of his business. He wore loose pants, which he had worn for the past week. He smelled awful, too. It was such a relief he was able to wake from his feverish dreams and to finally move around again. His mind was once again his own. 

Until he fell asleep again, that is.

Everyone gathered into the cabin. Lenny was like a bright light in his dark world. The kid looked healthy, strong, and more confident than Arthur had ever seen him. He had let his hair grow in more and a bit of stubble covered his cheeks; it seemed the few months on his own with Hosea he’d become his own man. 

“We gotta go out for a drink sometime,” Lenny said, nudging Arthur in the arm. He and Hosea were on their way out. His brown eyes shone with fondness. “We missed having you around, Arthur.”

“I missed ya too, Lenny. Keep in touch, kid.” Arthur reached up and shook his hand. Lenny and Hosea hadn’t said much about where they’ve been or what they’ve been up to. Arthur had asked, at one point, and Hosea had changed the subject. 

They were up to something dangerous, Arthur had decided, and they had chosen not to include him on it. It was odd, not to be involved directly. Perhaps he appeared too weak to them, wounded and bound to a couch. No, that wasn’t it. Hosea simply didn’t want the gang to reform. If Arthur joined… others might follow. 

John was silent most of the time Hosea was over. John had taken the news well, though his thoughts seemed elsewhere. What would John do, once Hosea left? What would Arthur do?

“Oh, right.” Hosea stopped by the door. “I would suggest you take a ride to Strawberry when possible, in the next few weeks. Micah’s been arrested and he’s due to swing by the noose.”

“You ain’t gonna to rescue him?” John asked, sounding a bit stunned. He was leaning on the couch, arms and legs crossed. 

Hosea’s eyes darkened and the grip he had on the door handle seemed to tighten. “I know what I saw that night,” Hosea said, scowling. “It’s best you boys let him swing.”

“Did he kill Dutch?” Arthur asked. Micah would have been the only person who would have. Micah had been the one to push the Blackwater job only for the Pinkertons to show up in full force. It only made sense if Micah ratted Dutch out. Pinkertons had probably offered Micah freedom from the law. 

“I believe so. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him myself. Micah’s current arrest is unrelated to the Pinkertons. God knows what that fool did this time. Either they let him swing or let him free for killing Dutch.”

Arthur wouldn’t miss Micah swing for the world. He had no love for that man. “Thanks, Hosea. Remember to keep us updated on your whereabouts.”

“I will. Take care, sons. Abigail, Jack, Mrs. Adler.” Hosea’s eyes gave a glint of sadness as he looked the group over with fatherly love, then he turned away, followed out by a waving Lenny. They shut the door behind them.

Abigail sat at the dinner table, Jack in her lap. A new pile of books were stacked on the table, meant for Jack’s further education and was a gift from Hosea. All were silent as they processed the news.

“As I said before, you can all stay here,” Sadie said, her voice quiet from where she stood by the ladder. She had been quiet the whole duration Hosea and Lenny were there, eyes observing. Dark bags rested under her eyes as if she hadn’t caught much sleep. 

Arthur owed her for taking care of him. Everyone had put work in taking care of him, but Sadie had done the most. 

“Thank you, Sadie,” Abigail said kindly. “We will take you up on your offer.” John gave a stern nod in agreement. “We’ll work hard to get back on our own feet.”

Arthur was silent. He didn’t know what he could offer Sadie besides helping her seek out the O’Driscolls. All he could do is wait to heal up and leave the moment he was able. After that… his thoughts drifted off. He had no answer for himself. 

He leaned back on the couch, wishing the brief visit with Hosea could have lasted longer, wishing Hosea had asked Arthur to tag along. Instead, Arthur was left empty handed and more questions than ever, and it seemed like he had all the time in the world to figure himself out. 

It left an unsettling feeling in his gut and he couldn’t figure out why. 


	15. Chapter 15

_ Sadie _

The first of March was around the corner, the blanket of snow on the mountain halfway melted, leaving behind a muddy strip of road Sadie hadn’t seen since last fall. Mountain passes would be easier to cross now, especially with a wagon. Spring rainstorms arrived, along with the blossoming flowers and green foliage in the nearby fields. 

Sadie had received word the items would be arriving any day now to Strawberry and they had prepared her ranch in advance. She, Arthur, and John used up the last bit of lumber to finish the fences. Sadie and Abigail worked to prepare a space for the vegetation that would have to be planted; it would be some time yet before the last frost of the season, then the real work would begin. 

Despite all this planning, Sadie was anxious to get moving. Every morning she greeted her husband’s cross, saying a silent vow she’d make the O’Driscolls pay for what happened to them. Arthur had promised his help, but had to recover from his wounds first. 

Out of everyone, he took the news of the gang’s dissolvement the worst. He had become solemn and distant and not even Jack had managed to cheer him up. Every night, Arthur would sit in a chair, his journal on his lap and only stare at it. She hadn’t seen him attempt to sketch anything.

When his wounds were mostly healed, Sadie faced the morning with one goal. She would find a way to make Arthur cheer up. It was time to ride to Strawberry, as her items should have arrived at the general store. She dressed that morning into warm clothing and packed her bag. She made a small helping of pancakes and bacon. A full stomach would be nice for the uncomfortable and bumpy wagon ride.

There was a soft snore coming from the loft where Arthur slept. As soon as he had been able to leave the couch, he had, keeping himself to the loft. She made her way up the ladder and grabbed the nearest object to chuck at his sleeping form. 

He jolted awake, staring at her with wide, sleepy eyes. His face was buried behind a thick beard. “Hey, cowboy, let’s go to Strawberry,” was all she said before she headed back down. 

“Cowboy?” she heard him softly say as she left the cabin. She smiled to herself as she left. Maybe this Strawberry trip would raise his spirits. 

She was near finishing setting up the wagon when Arthur left the cabin, his saddlebag in hand. He had swept his hair back with pomade and had attempted to soothe his wild mountain man beard, though it was in dire need of a trim. There was a barber in Strawberry, at least. Arthur had dressed for travel, wearing his thick trousers and heavy jacket. The morning air was cool, but at least it wasn’t the biting, frigid air of winter. 

He plopped his bag in the wagon. “Supplies ready to be picked up?” 

“Yes. They’re supposed to deliver the farm animals a little bit later in the month - it’ll give us time to expand the barn.” Sadie scratched her horse on the chin. They had figured they would need two horses, in case there were a lot of packages. “Did you grab breakfast?”

“No. I’ll eat a snack on the way. Abigail requested you to say goodbye.” Arthur went to the other side of the wagon and stiffly stepped up to the seat. “Take your time.”

Sadie did so, with a promise to Abigail to pick up more knitting supplies and a book for Jack. She gave a stern warning to John to protect his family and the home, though Sadie was highly confident she could trust John. He had stepped up and helped with small chores about the house, had taken to reading to Jack, and been more loving to Abigail. 

It was like a reversal in Arthur’s case. Arthur still cared, however, his mood had been dark ever since Hosea left. 

She and Arthur departed, the sun high in the sky, promising a blue sky till evening. Bright colors of blues, yellows, and purples started breaking free of the ground, the flowers a welcoming sight compared to winter’s bleak landscape. Traveling by wagon was slow, and not ideal, but Sadie just wasn’t too sure how many supplies Jake had ordered. It sounded like too much, especially the crib she was to pick up. The crib would be vacant for years, perhaps forever, and it was hard to think of.

A few hours of awkward silence - it didn’t used to be awkward - and Sadie idly admired the scenery as they went. They passed the town of Colter, a long forgotten and abandoned mining town. Ruffians occasionally lived there, so they passed the area with caution, hands on their guns. 

They passed the town without any issue. With a wagon, they took the longer way around for safer passage instead of passing over the high mountain path. They passed Lake Isabella, only partially frozen. The waters would still be freezing once summer hit. Sadie had swam in Lake Isabella on one of hers and Jake's many adventures around the area in a happier time. Perhaps she would have a chance to again.

Without the snow and the hazards it brought, they made good time and stopped for the afternoon at the halfway mark. The horse needed a well deserved rest and Sadie’s backside started to ache from the bumpy divots in the road. They ate a simple meal of bread, jerky, and cheese underneath an old oak tree while the horse grazed a few yards from them. 

Arthur barely touched his food and had hardly snacked along the way. Sadie had noticed this was starting to become commonplace for him. 

“You need to eat something,” she said softly as she could, eying his worn, tired face. “Your body is still healing and needs all the energy it can get.”

“Sorry,” Arthur said, a small, apologetic smile on his face. He picked up the jerky and nibbled on a small piece. 

Well, it was something at least. Sadie leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh smell of the forest. 

“Thank you, Sadie,” Arthur said, so quiet Sadie had barely heard it. She opened her eyes and found Arthur staring down the pile of food in front of him. He was playing with a blade of grass with his fingers. 

“For what?”

“For not runnin’ once you found out my past. You… ain’t said much about it, though.”

Sadie lifted an eyebrow. “Wasn’t my place.” 

He looked at her then. “Even if I…” he seemed to struggle for words. “My choice in men…”

His comment saddened Sadie. It was clear that it had been a burden to him, especially growing up. “That don’t change who you are. I don’t care, Arthur. It ain’t a bother to me, whatsoever, and you ain’t gotta worry bout that ever changing.”

The crinkles around Arthur’s worried eyes softened. “You a kind person, Sadie. I am glad, despite everythin’, that we became friends.”

“Me too. Don’t worry, Arthur. It’ll all come together. You can live with me as long as you like. ‘Sides, I like the company. Makes my home seem… worth it, you know?” Sadie leaned up and looked down at her gloved hands. “It would’ve been hard, without Jake and nobody else. He was a good man. You would’ve liked him.”

“He the type of man to like outlaws?” 

“Well… He was open minded. Kind. An opposite to me and my temper,” Sadie snorted. “But we worked in that way.” She chewed on her lip, trying to picture Jake’s face. His soft brown hair, soft, loving eyes, and his crooked grin every time he talked. 

“What was it like, growing up an outlaw?” Sadie asked, curious. “Where did you grow up, anyways?”

“Oregon. Lived there till I ran into Dutch.” Arthur’s eyes flashed once again with a deep sadness. “Lived with my father. He was an awful fool. Mean in all sorts of ways. I wasn’t born an outlaw, but I sure was raised by one. He was caught for stealin’ and hung when I was eleven.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. He wasn’t worth it. Only thing to remember him by is this hat.” Arthur pulled off his worn hat and set it aside as if judging it. “He wore it the last day he was alive. After that, I was on the streets. I survived with the other street kids. Near starved myself to death until I was fourteen. Ran into Dutch and Hosea then. I was an angry kid, but… they provided means to survive. So I followed in their footsteps, helped them rob, steal…” Arthur rubbed his beard as if lost in thought. “John reminds me of myself, when I was younger. Desperate for love, attention, I took it wherever I was shown it, men or women. I didn’t mind, neither did Dutch or Hosea. They accepted me for who I was. ‘Course they would, considerin’ their own drastic love story.

“Then there was Mary.” Arthur’s voice became light. “She was gorgeous and out of my league. I changed for her. Still an outlaw, of course, but I dressed proper and halted my wild… tendencies. It worked, ‘cause soon enough Mary agreed to let me court her. It lasted nearly a year. She knew who I was, I didn’t hide it. But her daddy…” his tone soured. “Her daddy hated me, would call the law on me if he found me with her. It came to it that he would only accept me if I stopped bein’ an outlaw.

“Turned out, that applied to Mary, as well. She accepted my proposal with only a promise if I’d stop bein’ who I was. It lasted a week. I was back on a train job for Dutch and Mary caught wind of it. It was over, and within months she was married to a rich nobody.”

Sadie listened closely, giving her attention all to him. It felt like a wave was pouring off Arthur, like he was finally admitting something he’d kept bottled up for years and she didn’t want to stop him. It was obvious all of this was on his mind, why he’d been brooding for the past few weeks. He needed an outlet and she didn’t mind being one for him. 

“I resorted to drinkin’. I was awful, Sadie, I really was. Then John, only… twelve, thirteen, showed up, and… I realized how awful I was as a role model to him. I started comparin’ myself to my own father, drunkard that he was. I didn’t want that. So I changed. Dutch began giving me larger jobs and I found my place. John reminded me a lot of myself when I was his age. Wild, cocky… except he never grew up. Not until these past few months. I see that now.”

Arthur was silent for a few moments, then said, “I think it’ll help if I see Micah in Strawberry. This is… where I have a request of you, Sadie. I can’t talk to him outright, lest he leaks who I am to the sheriff. I want you to talk to him, ask him about the gang.”

“Sure. What do you want me to say, exactly?”

“He’s a talker. You’ll have to convince him you’ll break him free, then he’ll talk.”

“What?” Sadie questioned, startled. “I thought you hated the man?”

“I do. And you won’t actually free him. Just trick ‘im, get him convinced you need his help, against the O’Driscolls. He’ll see the passion you have. I want his confession about Dutch.”

“I…” Sadie considered the idea. “What kind of person is he?” 

“He’ll probably insult you for being a woman and he won’t be kind about it. He’s cunning, too. He wiggled himself into Dutch’s good graces, somehow. Dutch is… was usually a good judge of character. I think he…” Arthur shook his head. “I’ll never understand Dutch.”

Sadie leaned back against the tree, admiring the grazing mare in the distance. The sun had started slipping past the trees and it was about time to set up their tents. “He kept you from your son,” Sadie said, not holding the bitterness in her voice. “He kept you locked in that gang. He sounded manipulative, Arthur, and maybe it’s good you got out. Like I said, you’ll get through this. This?” She motioned to the area around her. “This is merely our midway point. We got O’Driscolls to go after. I got a home to build. After that? I don’t know. I don’t know, but I’m gonna keep movin’ on, for Jake’s sake. Abigail, John… they worried about you. They care. You got money. If you don’t wanna live with us, there’s always ranch work out there. There’s other sorts of jobs. We’d miss you, but if you gotta get out, find your way, then so be it, but you’ll always be welcome in my home.”

“Thank you, kindly,” Arthur murmured. “Let’s set up our tent, shall we?” 

Later that night, as they laid in their tent on their respective bed rolls next to each other, Sadie lay on her side, eyes closed. She didn’t know if she helped Arthur in any way, but she’d talk to Micah for him. She was curious, anyways, to see what kind of man he was. Due to being hung by the noose soon, he would be desperate for any sort of savior.

“Sadie?” Arthur’s low voice asked in the dark.

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t say much about yourself, how your upbringing was.”

Sadie shifted on her bedroll and turned to face him. The lantern was dimly lit, barely illuminating the tent. He was lying on his back, hands crossed on his stomach. “There ain’t much to say,” she said softly. “My ma died when I was young. My pa… as I said before, he was ex military. He had to retire to raise me and got a simple job in Blackwater. I had a happy life and then Jake moved to Blackwater when I was a teenager… we was happy there, too. My pa approved of him, and we was due to be married. But my pa got sick.” Her voice tightened. “He didn’t last three months. I was alone and at the brink of homelessness because my pa didn’t have much money left for me. Jake… he came from an unhappy household and he was desperate to get away. Once we were married, he used the money he received from his parents and purchased land far away from them. I happily went with him. Couldn’t stand to live in Blackwater without my pa. He was everything to me.

“I wrote to Jake’s parents about his death. They was mean folks who wanted too much from Jake. Once they found out where we were moving to, they blamed me and scorned Jake. We’ve never even exchanged letters since.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I never expected this,” Sadie said hoarsely. “I should be at home right now, lying with Jake, but I’m not.”

Arthur was silent. Sadie thought he had nearly fallen asleep when he turned his head to her and said, “I wish we met under different circumstances, that everythin’ would be right for us.”

“I wish so, too.”

* * *

Sadie stood in front of the sheriff’s office, clad in dark jeans, chaps, heavy jacket, and her rifle strapped to her back. Her pistol dangled at her hip and she wore a brown cowboy hat with her braid tucked into a low bun at her neck. She and Arthur had debated how to approach Micah - as a mourning wife or someone on the course for vengeance. Sadie wouldn’t have to fake either, but a display that she knew how to fight might work in her favor. 

“I want to speak to Micah Bell,” she demanded of the sheriff sitting at his desk.

The sheriff was an older gentleman who looked like he hadn’t slept in ages with the heavy bags under his eyes. “He’s due to hang tomorrow, ma’am. He ain’t worth talkin’ to.”

Tomorrow? She and Arthur had arrived just in time. She spoke in a softer voice, “My name is Sadie Adler. I’ve seen you around before sheriff, and I’m sure you met my husband Jake Adler. He was murdered a few months ago by a gang that sounds like Micah Bell’s. Please, let me talk to him. I hear the gang’s still running about and I need to know where.”

The sheriff leaned back in his chair and put down his pencil. “I’m sorry about that, Mrs. Adler. Micah Bell was a part of the van der Linde gang. Dutch van der Linde is dead, you know. That gang is as good as dead.”

“Please,” Sadie said, voice pleading. “I need to look into his eyes before he hangs. I need closure, sheriff.”

The sweetness in her voice seemed to charm him. The sheriff let out a long sigh. “Fine. He’s downstairs. Don’t dawdle, now, you hear?”

“Oh, thank you!” Sadie gave him a wide smile and went to the stairs. There were only two jail cells, though only one was occupied. A man laid back on the cot and sat up once Sadie reached the last step. 

Micah looked ragged. His beard was patchy, like he hadn’t shaved in weeks, and his greasy blond hair in tangles. The smell of an unwashed body and grime filled Sadie’s nostrils. He’d clearly been down here for weeks.

“Is this a goodbye gift from the good ole’ sheriff himself? A tumble in the sheets before I hang?” Micah said, his tone mocking. “What else could you be here for, woman?”

He was disgusting. Sadie gritted her teeth. “Heard you went after the O’Driscolls. I need information.” Sadie let malice dripped into her words. She sat on the bench against the wall and spoke low enough so the sheriff wouldn’t hear her. “I can help you.”

Micah merely snorted at her. “You ain’t my type, though I am sure you provide a good ride, if you know what I mean.” 

Sadie narrowed her eyes and ignored his comment. “I can get you out of here. I need your cooperation.”

There was a glare in Micah’s eyes but he said, “Go on.”

“It’ll have to happen tonight, but here’s what I have to offer. I heard how you ran with Dutch van der Linde. I know where Arthur Morgan is, where John Marston is. I figure they are as bloodthirsty as you are. I can help you get out, only for your help with the O’Driscolls. I want them dead,” she said, venom in her voice. “Colm O’Driscoll killed my husband.”

Micah held up a dirty hand. “Let me get this straight. You want me to work with Morgan and Marston for what, revenge?” 

“Yes, against the  _ damn _ bastards who took my life from me.”

“What’s in it for me?” he asked. He was skeptical of her. 

“Five hundred dollars and freedom. You gonna hang and I’d rather break you out and risk the law. I know your reputation. I need men and I need help to hunt down the O’Driscolls.” 

Micah crossed his arms. He had little to bargain with, and Sadie knew that. 

He let out a low chuckle. “Those two won’t work with me. It’d have to be me and you, sweetheart, and no one else. Those two fools ain’t that great in a fight, either.”

Sadie had seen them two in a fight, and they were purebred gunslingers. However she didn’t say that and said, “And why is that?” 

“I killed Dutch,” Micah sneered, “for my own hide. And they know it. Pinkertons grabbed me awhile back. They offered me double the money to bring in Dutch alive, but those bastards nearly pinned us down. Almost killed us then and there with me included, so I killed Dutch to distract them. It worked and I got away. But.” Micah looked around his metal cage. “Made a stupid mistake and got caught. Apparently, Strawberry sent word to the Pinkertons they got me. They got a response this morning. The Pinkertons want me to hang, as you are well aware. So yes, lady, I’ll help you with the O’Driscolls. Now get me _ out. _ ” It was a pure and simple demand.

Sadie nearly smiled at the desperation in his voice. He was a vile man and she had no intention of helping him, yet she was happy to play the part. “It’ll have to wait until nightfall,” she whispered. “We’ll have to go immediately. It’s not going to be quiet.”

Micah gave her a toothy grin. “Lady, that’s my kind of night.” He looked her up and down then, his eyes scraping over her body with a sick kind of lustful look. “Show me the money?” he asked her instead.

Sadie dug it out of her pocket and counted the bills in front of him. “Two hundred and fifty when I break you out,” she said. The two hundred and fifty was a mix of John’s, Arthur’s, and her money combined. “The rest when Colm O’Driscoll is dead.”

Micah whistled. “You mean business.”

_ Yes. But not with you,  _ Sadie thought. She pocketed the money and went for the stairs. 

“You know how to use those things?” Micah shouted after her, pointing to the gun over her shoulder. 

Sadie gave him a wicked grin. “See you tonight, Micah Bell.” And then she left, stomping up the stairs. She let her face relax into a mournful gaze and thanked the sheriff for his time.

She paused by the door and turned to the sheriff. “It wasn’t him, but I now know it was the O’Driscoll gang, sheriff. Thank you for letting me talk to him. He… even offered me a bribe to break him out. He’d help me hunt down the O’Driscoll’s. He’s an awful man, sheriff.” 

The sheriff gave a long nod in agreement. Cigar smoke flooded his desk as he blew out a breath. “Take care, Mrs. Adler. He’ll get what is coming to him.” 

She left. She hadn’t realized how much she had been sweating. She found Arthur at the restaurant, sipping a pint of beer. She sat next to him in silence and cleared her throat. 

“He did it,” she said simply. 

Arthur paled at her words. 

Sadie continued, “He’s gonna be mighty upset when I don’t break him out tonight. He’s desperate, and very much so.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow after we watch him swing,” Arthur declared in a tight voice. He was still pale. 

“Hey,” Sadie said and leaned over, placing a hand over his on the bar. She gripped firmly. “This part of your life is nearly over.”

“Yes,” was all Arthur said, but he pressed his other hand on top of hers, his calloused fingers warm and tight over hers. He held on for a moment, gave her a small smile, and focused back on his beer.


	16. Chapter 16

_ Arthur _

The yelling and screaming could be heard across town. Arthur and Sadie had taken a long walk in the morning and stopped for a bit at the stable, admiring the horses. They made light chatter, not talking about what was to come. Arthur didn’t eat any breakfast that day, his stomach too tight and filled with nerves. When it was time, they went into the town, along with the people streaming from their work and homes, all keen to witness the hanging. 

Hangings always drew a crowd. Arthur had seen them from time to time, though the worst had been with his father Lyle. Lyle had been a bitter, angry man, who had abused Arthur and his mother. Once Lyle finally got caught for his crimes, Arthur hadn’t cried for his father. No. He had watched from the sidelines as his father was brought to the stand and a noose tied around his neck. He watched his father drop and the noose tighten. He remembered the gasp from the audience, his heart pounding against his chest, his ears ringing. 

Much like his heart was pounding now. He kept his head low, his hat nearly covering his face. He didn’t want Micah to see him, not until the last moment.

Micah was screaming at the top of his lungs. “She lied!” He roared as he was dragged by two men up the wooden steps. He fought against the two men, shoving and pushing. His greasy blond hair whipped about his face as he dragged his feet. “Where is the whore!?” He shouted over and over again, cursing the people, Sadie, and the sheriffs. 

Sadie held her head high as she and Arthur watched from the back of the crowd. There were at least twenty people gathered to witness his death. They waited patiently and some jeered at Micah as they positioned him on the stand and the noose around his neck. 

Micah’s eyes searched the crowd wildly. “You!” he shouted once he saw Sadie. “That’s the bitch, sheriff! She offered me money, she was gonna set me free!”

The sheriff wasn’t swayed. “You aren’t gonna be able to blame others for your crimes, Mr. Bell.”

Arthur reached down and grabbed Sadie’s hand. He squeezed it firmly and tried to calm his beating heart. Despite it being Micah’s crazy, nonsense raving, she didn’t deserve to be called any of those names. He kept his head down as they listed off Micah’s crimes. He cringed at the list. Larceny, rape, murder, were the big three. Wanted across a range of states, but then again, so was Arthur. There was still a drastic line between Micah and him, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

“It’s time,” Sadie said to him, and Arthur looked up and met Micah’s eyes as if on cue.

Micah’s furious eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth open to scream, and then the lever was pulled. 

He fell. Arthur watched as Micah dropped, the noose tightening and a gurgle leaving his lips. It wasn’t an instant death. No, Micah hung there, swinging his legs wildly, his hands bound in front of him. The man’s eyes bulged and it was only a few moments before his legs stopped kicking.

Micah’s eyes were rolled up, his mouth slack. He had pissed himself once he fell, drenching the front of his pants. People waited the minutes after he stopped moving, quiet as they waited for confirmation of his death. The crowd began dispersing, going back to their daily lives as if they hadn't just witnessed a gruesome death. 

Arthur made his way to the general store where Sadie’s supplies were ready to be picked up, thoughts heavy. 

It was over with Micah, at last. Arthur took quiet solace in it. For Dutch. 

“Arthur? Is that really you?” An accented, young voice called out. 

Arthur let go of Sadie’s hand and looked down the muddy road in the dispersing crowd to find a familiar face. “Sean! What are you doin’ out here?”

“Seein’ the show!” Sean MacGuire grinned. The Irish lad looked well, red hair to his shoulders, if a bit grimy. A happy, plump woman joined him and smiled wider once she caught sight of Arthur. 

“Karen!” Arthur said, accepting Sean’s firm hug. He gave Karen a softer hug, relieved at the sight of both of them. “Glad to see you two are alive and well.”

“And you, old man! You not eatin? You are skin and bone, you are!” Sean said, patting Arthur roughly on the stomach. 

Arthur recoiled, the rough pat landing roughly on his mostly healed wound. “Sorry,” Arthur said sheepishly. “Still on the mend.”

“You get yourself shot, Arthur?” Karen eyed him. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold breeze and she seemed cheery, despite everything. “Life’s been a little rough around the edges for all of us, huh?” 

“You could say that. We are actually in a bit of a rush to get back, we are runnin’ late as it is,” Arthur said. “Walk with us?” He began heading to the store where they had left their horse and wagon. Sadie stepped beside him. 

“And who’s this lovely lady?” Sean went on Sadie’s other side. “Tell me, you didn’t get yourself mixed up with this old fella now did you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Sadie said wryly. “Let’s keep it at that.” 

Arthur held the general store’s door open while everyone clamored into the tiny space. 

“That was quite the show,” Karen said. She followed them to the back of the store. “Got what he deserved.”

Sean eyed a few of the shelves and picked up a cigarette box. “That he did! Hey, Arthur, you heard about the O’Driscolls in these parts?”

Arthur lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. He talked to the store clerk and followed him outside where the packages were. There were several large crates, more than enough to pack the wagon with. Sadie wasn’t all too sure herself what would be in the crates, which they would save for opening until they reached the ranch. 

Sean and Karen made small conversation as Arthur and Sadie packed up the wagon. He knew Sadie was anxious to ask them about the O’Driscolls, but talking about it in a public store wasn’t the greatest spot for it. 

He led the two horses and wagon away from the store and up to the northern path out of Strawberry. Sean and Karen went to grab their own horses, and soon they were out of Strawberry, headed back to Ambarino.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Sean began. He kept pace with the wagon, eyeing Arthur with a crooked grin. “Karen and me been tracking them down. Ain’t got much else to do. O’Driscolls been out by Valentine, a whole lot of them. They been growin’ more and more cocky lately, now that we’re not around.”

“Valentine, huh?” Sadie mused. She sat next to Arthur on the wagon. “What are they doin’ there?” 

“Dunno. Worth checkin’ it out there. That’s where Karen and I are headed.”

Karen rode her horse next to Arthur and smiled widely. “Wanna join us on a bank job, Arthur? We could use the extra help.”

A bank job? Arthur let out a small laugh. “I can’t, Karen.”

“What?” Sean demanded. “You goin’ straight after all this time?”

Arthur hadn’t thought much about what he was doing, but a bank job just felt… wrong. Especially since he’d be living in Sadie’s good graces. He peered over at Sadie who’s lips were curved into a worried frown. She didn’t approve, either, but hadn’t offered her point of view. It was written cleanly on her face, however.

“We’d take out a few O’Driscolls in the process, I’m sure. There’s always one or two hangin’ around there,” Sean said. 

Arthur shook his head. “We got some unfinished business with the O’Driscolls, sure. But it ain’t the right time, and we ain’t gonna rob the bank. I’m sure you two can pull it off just fine.”

“I ain’t got the knack for lock-breaking like you do, Arthur.”

“No,” Arthur said firmly. 

“Ah, fine!” Sean said with a chuckle. “You was always a hard one to convince. Anyways, we need to be headed east. We’ll see you around now, Arthur?” Sean turned his horse around and headed back down the path, waving. 

Karen blew a small kiss toward Arthur. “Don’t forget us!” She followed Sean down the path. Somehow, Arthur suspected he’d be hearing about them two in the papers soon. Together they had an explosive personality and Arthur had a feeling the bank job would be messy. He wasn’t worried about them, except Sean had a knack for getting caught. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case. 

“So… members of your gang?” Sadie asked, looking questionly at Arthur. She had a slight smirk now on her face, cheeks rosy in the sun. Her sun-kissed blond hair draped around her shoulders.

Without thinking, Arthur reached over and brushed a long, stray strand of hair back over her shoulders. He blinked and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the reins in his hand. “Yes. Sean and Karen. An off and on again pair who are... chaotic. But Sean’s a good kid and Karen’s happy with him, so…” he shrugged. “Not everyone is able to stop bein’ an outlaw, I suppose.”

“Did you… want to join them?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “But you probably wanna head to Valentine now, huh?”

“If only for information,” Sadie said in a small voice. She leaned back in the wooden seat and crossed her arms. “We go after Colm. That’s it. You wanna leave once we deliver the supplies? We’ll make it a quick trip to Valentine, and the animals and lumber aren’t due for another two weeks.”

“Sure. Ain’t got much else to do.” 

* * *

Once all the crates were brought back to the Adler Ranch and unloaded inside, Arthur and Sadie set to work opening them all, telling John and Abigail of their plan to head to Valentine. Abigail was less than pleased with their plan and said so.

“I don’t like it,” Abigail said, sitting at the dinner table. “Is this really want you want, Sadie? It just seems so…”

“Wrong?” Sadie huffed at her. “I know. Believe me, I know. But I ain’t gonna feel right until I know that… that man is taken care of. He don’t deserve to live, not after what his men done and will continue to do.”

“I know, but why does it have to be you?” 

Arthur let them two talk it out and minded his own business as he made himself a sandwich. Abigail had made some fresh bread earlier and the entire house smelled of it. 

“It just does.” Sadie lifted off the first crate’s lid and paused. “I don’t wanna do this,” she said. 

Arthur set down his plate and peered into the crate she was staring at. Children’s toys were stuffed to the brim. Sadie moved to open another, revealing a set of wood. Once constructed, it was a simple crib. Sadie put the lid back on in a hurry. “Let’s take these to the barn. There’s nothing I need here.”

Arthur didn’t protest. They spent a few minutes bringing the crates to the barn, where they piled them into the corner. Sadie stopped Arthur by the door of the barn and grabbed his arm. Her face was dark. “This is why I am going after them, Arthur.” She motioned to the crates. 

“I understand, Sadie. We’ll leave in the mornin’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I didn't want Micah to live very long either.


	17. Chapter 17

_ Sadie _

Laughter and music drifted through the bar in Valentine. Sadie hopped off her horse, her boots landing in a pile of slick mud. Rain pelted down in buckets and thunder rolled in the distance. She tethered the horse to the post, Arthur hurrying along with her. Rain had accompanied them for the past several hours and they had decided to ride it out since Valentine was so close. 

They entered the bar, drenched and freezing, their rain jackets dripping onto the floor. Despite it being a late hour, men still played poker at one of the tables and a bunch of others crowded around the building. None of them paid attention to Arthur and Sadie as they made their way to the bar, shrugging off their wet jackets.

“Let me take that for you, sweetie,” a woman cooed, grabbing Arthur’s jacket. She was dressed in merely a corset and a skirt. “Need someone to warm you up?”

Arthur held on firmly to his jacket. “No. Me and my partner here will stay right here.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Sadie teased the woman, who scoffed at her. She and Arthur set their jackets on the back of their chairs. Arthur volunteered to grab drinks and food, so Sadie sat down at the wooden table and observed the crowd. 

She watched with narrowed eyes, looking for the dark jackets of the O’Driscolls and the green scarves. All of the men looked to be everyday farmers, nothing special to them. The only women in the bars were the working women. She wondered if some of these men were married, leaving their wives at home with the children while they played around in the bar. 

Arthur set down a pint of beer in front of her and took the seat across from her. “Food should be ready in a bit,” he said. “They a bit busy, so it might be awhile.”

“That’s fine.”

“Anyone catch your attention?” he asked, his voice low. He took a small sip of his beer.

Sadie shook her head. “Nah. We’ll walk around in the mornin’, see what we can find out. Your… buddies been through yet?”

“Not yet. It might be soon, considerin’. I won’t be one to help them, though.”

“That’s fine.” Sadie took a long drink of the beer. The warmth of the bar finally started to push the chill away. “We’ll be ready to work tomorrow.” 

As time went on, more and more people entered the bar, dressed in what looked like church clothes. Sadie watched in amusement as they crowded the bar, pint after pint of beer being handed out. The people moved around and began to push the tables to the sides of the bar, and several people set up by the piano, violin and drums in hand. 

Arthur and Sadie moved upstairs once they finished their meal, fresh beers in their hands, as they watched from the balcony a young couple parade through the door, dressed in a wedding gown and black suit. 

“Someone got hitched,” Arthur commented over the noise. 

The crowd broke into music and dancing. Despite the music being cheery, Sadie felt a twisted feeling in her gut. Her and Jake’s wedding hadn’t been like this. It had been private, with only a few guests in attendance. The roar of this crowd was completely different from what she was used to. It’d been ages since she’d seen dancing, as well. There were always those annual Blackwater dances the whole town had been invited to. It was the last time she and Jake had danced before moving up to Ambarino. 

“Look like Sean and Karen made friends,” Arthur said, his voice loud to be heard over the crowd. He pointed to the outlaw couple, dancing below with the crowd. “They’re good at that.”

The fun, ragtime music continued on for some time. Drinks were handed out, people mingled in circles, and dances swirled around in the middle of the bar. After some time, Karen caught sight of Arthur and lifted her arms joyously. “Get down here!” She called up to him, her cheeks flushed with booze and the heat of the room. 

Arthur shook his head and waved her off. The piano music became slower and the ragtime changed into a slow song. 

Karen shot up the stairs and barged between Arthur and Sadie, breathing heavily. “One dance, Arthur,” Karen grinned girlishly at him, slurring her words. Without waiting for an answer, she dragged him down the stairs and onto the dance floor.

Sadie watched, a smile tugging at her lips. She liked Karen. She seemed headstrong and stubborn, and purely drunk. Yet Arthur waltzed around with Karen, his smile wide as they made conversation between themselves.

“I don’t know you,” Sean said from beside her, nearly making Sadie jump. She hadn’t noticed him. “But would you care to dance? Arthur’s taken my dance partner.”

Sadie eyed the red headed young man. Did she really want to? Not really. All she could think was how she missed Jake at that moment, how they had danced when they were teenagers, talking endlessly into the night. 

“That’s okay,” Sean shrugged. “I can-”

“Sure,” Sadie said, and took his arm. She set aside her empty beer glass. Jake would want her to be happy, to move on and have a little fun. Her heart was tight as she went down the stairs and into the rhythmic dance of the waltz. 

“So how did you meet Arthur?” Sean said, his accent thick and slurring. His breath reeked of cigarettes and beers. “It ain’t often we see him with a woman.”

“He saved me from the O’Driscolls a few months ago,” Sadie said. She didn’t really want to go into it. 

“Nasty lot. Been a constant thorn in our side, they have.” Sean let go of her hand and grabbed two overflowing shots of whiskey a waiter was carrying around on a tray. He passed one over to Sadie and downed his in one gulp. 

Sadie followed suit and wiped her mouth, nearly choking at the burning in her throat. Someone bumped into her shoulder and she looked back to find Arthur and Karen. The crowds danced around them, oblivious in their drunkenness. 

“Karen!” Sean cheered and passed Sadie’s hand to Arthur. “I found you a partner, Arthur!” 

Arthur rolled his eyes at Sean, but pulled Sadie into a waltz and drifted her away from Sean and Karen who were grinning from ear to ear at each other. 

The newlywed couple danced in the middle of the room, while several other couples danced around them. Arthur and Sadie drifted to the outside circle, dancing slowly. Sadie was mildly surprised how expertly Arthur danced, leading her with confident steps. She couldn’t deny she felt safe in his arms and was rather enjoying the closeness between them. He smelled of pine and whiskey and smoke. 

“Wouldn’t have expected you to know how to dance,” Sadie said. 

Arthur stepped and guided her into a twirl, eyes glittering with mischief. His cheeks were rosy; Sadie had spotted him and Karen having a couple of shots before they had started dancing. He was letting loose that night, which was a relief for Sadie to see. 

“Couple of women in the gang thought I should know how,” Arthur said. “It’s been awhile, though.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Sadie said honestly. “Been a couple years for me.”

“You doin’ fine,” Arthur assured her. 

The slow songs picked up into faster tunes and more people pressed onto the dance floor. Arthur navigated Sadie to the bar, pushing through the crowd and holding tightly to her hand. 

Sadie squeezed beside him once they reached the bar. Young men and women were pressed together around the bar, chatting and laughing away. Sadie accepted the shot glass Arthur handed her, and downed it in one gulp. Her eyes watered at the burn. “This type of dance ain’t your thing?”

Arthur looked back to the crowd who was in the midst of quick paced, rehearsed dance movements. “I ain’t familiar with those type of dances.”

“Back in Blackwater, our barn dances were popular. Everyone would gather and just… went wild.” Sadie shook her head. Arthur handed her a pint of beer - was this her third one now? Or fourth? - and she took a long gulp. The bar was too warm now. She rolled up her long sleeves. She had been in pants the entire night, but nearly everyone had been too drunk to notice or care. All the attention had been on the newlyweds; Arthur and Sadie were merely outsiders who had been encouraged to join in. 

“Hey Arthur!” Sean bumped harshly into Arthur, spilling a bit of the beer in Arthur’s hand. He ignored the glare from Arthur and pulled Karen close to him; she snuggled under Sean’s arm. “We gonna get out of here. Catch us later, okay?” Karen giggled and started kissing Sean’s cheek. 

Sadie flushed at the display and tried to ignore where Karen’s hands were roaming over Sean’s body. 

“Get out of here,” Arthur said, teasing in his voice. 

“Be safe, you!” Sean gave Sadie a wink. “Show ‘im a good time, missy!” 

Arthur kicked Sean in the rear and sent him to the door. He turned to Sadie. “Sorry-”

“It’s fine.” Sadie rolled her eyes with a smirk. “He’s drunk.”

“He’d say that even if he wasn’t drunk,” Arthur muttered. He finished off what was left of his beer. “Shall we go check into the hotel?” 

Considering the room was starting to spin, Sadie said yes. She followed Arthur out of the bar, only to feel a hand grasp her arm and yank her back.

“Why are you dressed like a man?” A smelly, beer bellied man asked her, his grip tight on her arm. It was hard to say if he was a part of the wedding party. 

“Let go!” Sadie snapped and yanked on her arm. She blinked as the man did and she stumbled back into Arthur, who caught her by the shoulders. 

“Let’s go, Sadie.” Arthur put a hand on Sadie’s back and navigated her out, only to find two men standing in front of the swinging doors. Sadie heard Arthur mutter a curse under his breath. 

“You ain’t from here,” one man slurred. “What’s your woman dressed like that for?”

Arthur stepped forward, only Sadie beat him to it, giving into the white hot rage fueled by her drunkenness. She crossed the few steps and pummeled a fist into the man’s face, sending him backwards. He crashed through the swinging doors in a heap. 

That was all the men needed. There were screams in the background as random men jumped at each other, either at Arthur or Sadie or others, and wild, drunken fists were thrown. Several men jumped up to protect Sadie; after all, she  _ was _ a woman and not everybody was willing to fight against her. 

Arthur stood in front of Sadie and ducked an incoming man, landing a fist into the man’s gut. He pushed the man to the ground and Sadie kicked a man away. They worked as a team, kicking and punching whenever someone approached them. 

Sadie had witnessed bar fights before, but had never been the  _ cause _ of one. People swarmed out of the bar, men and women of the wedding party, escaping while they could. The ragtime music continued to play in the background as if they kept on encouraging the chaotic fight that had broken out. 

There was confusion as the men tried to figure out who they were fighting against. It ended nearly as fast as it had started. The ragtime music stopped as the musicians stumbled out, drunk themselves. Several men laid groaning on the floor while some sank to exhaustion. In the midst of it all, Arthur had caught a fist in the face, resulting in a black eye. He leaned over, hands on his knees, huffing and puffing. 

Sadie tapped on his shoulder and motioned her head toward the door. They made their way out, stepping over the moaning men, Arthur’s arm over her shoulder. He was chuckling under his breath. If anything, they’d wake up with bruises and a raging headache. Considering how Sadie felt, she would feel the same in the morning. Just as they left, the Sheriff and two of his men walked past them and into the bar, shouting that the party was over and for everyone to head home.

They left the bar behind them, laughing to themselves. A soft rain fell and their boots were slick in the mud. This felt good - despite the night ending in a fight, Sadie hadn’t had this much fun in awhile.

“Arthur?” a smooth, pretty voice called out. Instantly Sadie felt Arthur go rigid. They halted in front of the hotel and turned around to face a dark haired woman dressed in a dark turquoise dress, holding a parasol. The woman’s hair was pleated partially back and framed her slightly rounded face. The woman’s eyes were wide with shock. She was downright gorgeous, even to Sadie, with her rose kissed cheeks, alluring dark eyes and sultry lips. 

Arthur let his arm drop from Sadie’s shoulder and he shuffled stiffly on his feet. “Mary.”

“It _ is _ you,” she said, eyeing his black eye. She took a few steps forward and lifted a hand as if to inspect his face, then lowered it to her side. “I… I wasn’t expecting to run into you here. I heard the news, about… about Dutch.”

“Yes, it was, ...unfortunate.” 

The silence was deafening. Sadie waited, then decided she should leave. “I should go-”

“Wait for me,” Arthur murmured. “How have you been?” he asked Mary.

“I’ve… been better. I’m actually here to find my brother, Jamie. He joined the Chelonians, but… I haven’t found him yet. He needs to come home.” Mary frowned. “I don’t suppose you…”

“No, I haven’t.” 

“I’m headed back tomorrow. I live in St. Denis now. My husband passed away, so…” Mary looked away in the distance. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. If I see your brother - I’ll see what I can do.”

“If - if you happen to be in St. Denis, perhaps we can do dinner and... catch up. I hope you are well, besides.” Her eyes flicked to Sadie, finally recognizing that she too stood there with Arthur. 

“I am. Take care, Mary.”

“And you, as well.” Her words were soft, delicate. 

It was Arthur who broke eye contact and turned back to the hotel. He placed a hand against Sadie’s back and the two of them wandered away. Sadie was grateful for his touch, because she was starting to see double. She hadn’t drank that much in forever. 

“Only one room left, I’m afraid,” the tired hotel clerk told them as they entered. 

“We’ll take it,” Arthur said and set a few coins on the desk. “Three nights, please. You head up, Sadie, I’ll go get our bags.”

Sadie nodded numbly, the alcohol finally gurgling in her gut. She barely heard the clerk call out room three. She made her way upstairs and found it in the corner. She twisted the key in the door lock and ignored the fact that there was one bed, found the bucket under the bed, and vomited into it. 

Five minutes later she was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, head in her hands. She was trying to keep her food down. As Arthur entered the room, their bags in hand, Sadie leaned back over the bucket and cleared what was left in her stomach. 

Arthur crossed over to her and held back her hair. He kneeled down and patted her back. “You ain’t used to all of that, huh?”

“It’s been awhile,” Sadie said. She spit out into the bucket. “Sorry.”

“No need. It happens. Here, get changed, I’ll take care of this and grab some water.” He didn’t give her time to answer. He grabbed the bucket and the empty jug on the desk and left the room.

Limbs shaky, Sadie rummaged through her bag, found her nightgown, and shrugged out of her clothing. When Arthur returned, she was curled up in the bed, the room spinning around her. 

“Drink,” Arthur said, handing her a cup of water. He waited for her to finish the full glass, then set it aside. He placed the cleaned bucket by her side of the bed. “Do you need anythin’ else?” he asked her.

“No. Thank you, Arthur,” Sadie mumbled, hating how groggy she felt. “Remind me not to drink like that again.”

Arthur chuckled. “Sure.”

“You can sleep next to me, if you want,” she suggested and patted the section next to her. 

“... You don’t mind?” 

“I trust you,” she murmured into the pillow. Now that she was safely secured in a bed, her stomach calm, her thoughts drifted to the conversation with Mary. The way she saw Arthur react, the nervousness in his voice and the flush in his cheeks... 

She couldn’t tell if she was jealous or not. 

The bed creaked as Arthur settled in bed next to her, his back mere inches away from her. If this had been a different situation - if Sadie hadn’t been scarred, hurt, and her heart ripped open - she could see herself falling for Arthur Morgan, his smile, his kindness. And this would be  _ very _ dangerous territory, in a bed with only the two of them.

In the dark Arthur murmured, “Good night.”

“Good night,” Sadie whispered, pushing those thoughts aside, and tried to fall asleep. 

* * *

Sadie woke to a string of gunshots just outside her hotel window. She sat up in a hurry, heart beating fast. She regretted it instantly. Her pounding head made her groan and hunch over. Men were shouting outside in a chaotic roar of unintelligible screams and bullets. Sadie slowly got out of bed and to her window, yanking open the shades. Men ran north through Valentine, chasing some foe Sadie couldn’t see.

Arthur was suddenly by her side looking over her shoulder, dressed only in loose pants. Sadie’s eyes drifted down his firm chest and settled on the healing wounds. She flushed and looked away. “It’s outside. Whoever it was, they out of Valentine now.” Sadie crossed her arms. It was chilly by the window. 

Arthur made a disapproving grunt. “I betcha it was Sean and Karen. Those fools. I hope they got away just fine.” He ran a hand down his face and flinched when his fingers touched his black eye. 

Sadie wandered back to the bed and sat down. She hadn’t vomited again, but she still felt woozy. “Maybe some food will do me good,” Sadie said. 

“How’s your head?” Arthur sat on his side of the bed. 

“Besides a pounding headache, I’ll live.”

“I’ll head to the baths first,” Arthur said and grabbed one of his shirts. He shrugged it on and grabbed his bag. “I’ll meet ya at the bar for breakfast.”

“You ain’t gonna go check up on them, Sean and Karen I mean?” Sadie asked him as he turned to leave.

“If I do, there’s a good chance I hafta get involved. If they get arrested…” Arthur paused by the door and shook his head. He opened the door. “They good people. I wouldn’t let them rot in jail. I hope it don’t come to that.” He left, the door clicking softly behind him.

Sadie shivered. That was an outlaw way of life, she supposed. Free of the law, but they left a blood trail behind them. She couldn’t imagine being constantly on the run. 

She rested a few more minutes, trying to remember the night before. Parts had become fuzzy. She didn’t even remember getting into a fight, but she knew it happened. She remembered telling Arthur he could sleep next to her. He hadn’t attempted to get cozy with her, not like Sean had suggested. 

She hadn’t lied when she said she trusted Arthur. He was turning out to be a good friend, and she hadn’t had many of those. To be honest, she was rather enjoying their time together. He was someone who cared about doing the right thing and she respected him for it. 

Had she been the one to start the fight last night? She thought hard and finally decided it had been her. If she hadn’t, Arthur would have. The thought made her grin. 

And then there had been Mary. Sadie let her grin fade. It was a can of worms she didn’t want to get involved in. Or did she? 

An hour or so later, she made her way to the bar, dressed in pants and a dark blue shirt. Her headache had faded to a dull throb. The bar only had a few people inside and the mess from last night was all cleaned up. Tables were pushed back onto the floor and she found Arthur sitting in the barber chair in the back. She went over to admire his new haircut. 

“Finally gettin’ rid of that beard, eh?” she asked him. 

“It was time,” Arthur shrugged as the barber stepped away to dunk the razor in a bucket of water. He had changed into his dark blue jeans and plaid shirt. His hair had been trimmed a tiny bit, the ends swept back and tucked behind his ears. “Order us some food if you don’t mind, Sadie. I’m nearly done.” 

The food was ordered and brought to the table just as Arthur arrived, wiping his newly trimmed beard with his hands. “Calls it the Van Dyke, he does,” Arthur said, scratching the hairs on his chin. 

“It looks… regal. I like it,” Sadie said, taking a bite of her eggs. 

Arthur smiled at her comment. He dug into his food and when he was several mouthfuls in, he said, “Barber confirmed it was Sean and Karen. Robbed the bank clean. They got away. A few men were injured, no deaths, and the doc is having a busy mornin’, apparently.”

“Hmm…” Sadie mused into her coffee. They had injured a few innocent men. These weren’t O’Driscolls they were talking about. No, these were men who lived by the law. 

Arthur looked around, making sure there was no one too close, and continued on, “That’s what it takes, bein’ an outlaw. You both wanna live and… well, you got your gang to protect. You do what you gotta do to survive.”

“I understand. If I was in that same situation…” Sadie considered the stewing hatred in her gut about the O’Driscolls. “If I ever had to run with you, when you was an outlaw gang… it’d be easy for me, to be an outlaw. I lost Jake, nearly lost of my life, my home.” She nibbled on a piece of crunchy toast. “Never thought I’d be chasing a gang, but now I can’t think of anything else.”

“We’ll do some ridin’ around. There’s bound to be a group here, somewhere.” 

“Do you wanna talk about Mary at all?”

Arthur shrugged. “It was a surprise, that’s all. I’ll write her, see how she’s handlin’ herself in St. Denis. I hadn’t heard her husband died. She… we didn’t write, after.” 

Sensing Arthur didn’t want to talk more about it, Sadie didn’t ask anything else. 

After breakfast, they retrieved their horses from the stable and scouted out the town and the nearby area. Sean and Karen had put everyone on high alert; the doctor’s building was busy with men headed in and out, bandages tied around their wounds. Arthur expressed surprise at the fact Sean had succeeded. 

“I lost count of how many times I had to rescue that kid,” Arthur told her. “Karen’s the one who probably saved his hide. She’s a good shot.” 

They continued east, leaving Valentine behind, and followed the railroad tracks. Grey thunder clouds lingered in the horizon. It wasn’t long until they came across the train, halted in a strange spot and headed out of Valentine. If it had stopped this close to Valentine, it didn’t make sense.

“It shouldn’t be here,” Arthur commented. He hopped off his horse and approached the train, drawing his rifle. Sadie followed, hand on her pistol. They kept a slow pace.

They stopped by the caboose first. Arthur climbed up the side and pressed open the wooden door. “Shit,” Arthur cursed as they caught sight of a man, covered in blood on the floor of the engine room. “This has to be the work of the O’Driscolls or another gang.” They made their way to the cargo car, their footsteps quiet. Sadie held back her gasp as she saw several men on the floor, drenched in pools of their own blood. Drawers were open throughout the cabin as if they’d been looking for money, jewelry, or anything of value. 

“This is a slaughter,” Sadie said, her voice tight. “They’re all dead.”

“Let’s check the passengers.” Arthur continued down, Sadie close to him. “Whoever they were, they’re gone now. We best ride back to Valentine and alert the sheriff. This is not a good day for the town.” 

The passenger cart was a bloodbath. Sadie held a hand over her mouth as they passed everyone, slumped in the seats, on the ground, on each other. There were at least ten people who had lost their lives. Sure enough, Arthur stopped by a dark haired man wearing a dark jacket and green scarf of the O’Driscolls. He’d be killed by someone, probably one of the train guards. Sadie could only guess. 

“Oh no,” she breathed, her eyes settling on a couple hunched over each other on a seat near her. “It’s-” she couldn’t bear to say it. Sadie fought back the nausea as she regarded the newlywed couple from last night. They had been happily married just yesterday. Boiling, hot rage seeped through her. She’d killed every single of the O’Driscolls, every single one -

“Christ,” she heard Arthur say beneath his breath. He uttered another loud curse. She blinked, not used to that tone of voice. She watched as he reached down and picked up a dark haired, pretty woman dressed in a frilly blue gown. The woman’s eyes fluttered, face white as snow, a contrast to the blood seeping out of her neck. She was still alive. 

Sadie’s breath left her.  _ Oh, no. No, no no- _

Arthur exited the other side of the passenger car and jumped down to the ground. He whistled for his horse and nearly stumbled. Sadie rushed to his side and put a hand on his back. The rage on his face, the glare of his brow, the swelling of tears in his eyes - he was livid.

“Sto-stop,” the woman choked out. “Stop. Set me down.” 

Arthur complied and kneeled to the ground and cradled the woman in his lap. “ _ Mary _ . This wasn’t me,” Arthur said, his voice choking. 

“I know,” Mary responded in a strained voice. “My brother, Jamie, Arthur, he needs-” she struggled for gasping, painful breaths. “Jamie needs help. He’s with the Chelonians, I couldn’t-”

“I need to get you help first,” Arthur responded with a snap. 

The woman shook her head softly. “Stop. Please, just… stop. Oh, Arthur. Let me go,” she ended in a whisper. Dark blood dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. 

Blood seeped into Arthur’s clothes. All Sadie could do was place a hand on his shoulder, at a loss of words. A soft rain settled over them and men could be heard shouting in the distance. Someone had already gotten help.

“Mary-” Arthur let out a sob. “Jesus Christ, I can’t- Mary, open your eyes, please.” He began to rock back and forth and hugged her to him. Her head fell back, black hair tumbling out of it’s bun, and her mouth went slack. Arthur pressed his forehead to hers and let out an anguished cry.

Sadie bit back her own tears. This had been too sudden. Mary, who Arthur had been in love with all those years ago - and now she was gone. In a fuzzy haze, Sadie left Arthur alone with Mary and greeted the men riding up, the Sheriff riding in front. She let the tears fall as she explained how they came across the train, that it was the O’Driscolls, and that everyone had been killed.

The Sheriff would take care of this. Sadie walked numbly back to Arthur, who had laid Mary on the ground in front of him. Blood continued to soak into the ground around her. Arthur’s eyes were blank and he didn’t even look at Sadie as she sat next to him. 

“Can you track the O’Driscolls?” Arthur asked her after a moment. There was violent, liquid venom in his voice.

“Yes.” She had taken note of the tracks and the direction they went. 

His eyes flashed and his hands went into fists. “Then we ride.”


	18. Chapter 18

_ Arthur  _

Time seemed to stand still. Arthur barely noticed the rain and the thunder following them, the daylight turning into night. He didn’t notice what paths they took. There was a ringing in his ears, the last words of Mary repeating over and over in his head. 

_ Let me go. _

He couldn’t, not when he knew who did this, who killed Mary. He followed Sadie, trusting her sense of tracking and direction. His mind roared with a billion different thoughts. He could barely breathe. All he could focus on was getting revenge for Mary.

Mary, beautiful Mary. A woman he had loved with his whole being. His world had been shattered when she had broken their engagement, only because he had been too weak to break away from Dutch’s gang. She hadn’t wanted that life and he hadn’t known how to leave it for her. 

He hadn’t expected to find her on the train. 

_ God, fucking, dammit.  _

They came across an old, burned ranch, hidden in the depths of the forest, lanterns and campfires lit all around. Cold, drenching rain settled around the ranch. Arthur spotted an O’Driscoll scout, his back turned as he took care of his business. 

That was it for Arthur. 

He aimed his rifle and shot. 

The O’Driscoll went down. Another. Each O’Driscoll had piss poor aim. Sadie ran at Arthur’s side, taking down just as many O’Driscolls. 

A shot. A splinter of wood and a dash of dirt where bullets landed. Bursts of pain when one skimmed over Arthur’s skin. He ignored it. Sadie, too, was lost in her sense of rage as they bombarded the O’Driscoll camp. 

The O’Driscolls never stood a chance. Arthur and Sadie weren’t taken unaware this time. They weren’t weak. They were experts, bent on their revenge, their rage. This was a battle that needed to end. No more people suffering the fate of Mary and Jake. 

No more. 

In Arthur’s blind rage, he saw Colm attempting to flee, the older man running toward a horse nearby. Colm, who let his men do the dirty work while he escaped. 

Not this time.

Arthur gave chase, disarming and downing a man along the way. He stumbled through the burned remains of the ranch and jumped at Colm. He knocked the man to the ground and pinned him to the dirt. Colm, in a flurry of kicks and punches, twisted to his back. Arthur used the butt of his rifle, knocked Colm in the head, and then pressed it against Colm’s neck, cutting into the man’s windpipe.

“Stop!” A deep voice called out. 

Arthur peered up, finding Sadie caught between two men, covered in a spatter of blood not her own. She struggled against the men and let out a string of curses. 

“Let him go!” One of the men holding Sadie shouted. He pressed a pistol to Sadie’s forehead. 

Arthur tossed his rifle aside and backed up, mouth dry. Dots danced his vision. He held his hands up, breathing heavily. Colm drew gasping breaths of air and struggled to his feet. Arthur’s knock to the head had only dazed him.

“You bastard,” Colm choked up, picking up his rifle. “Jesus christ, Morgan, you killed all my men.”

So Arthur had. Yet with Sadie caught between two men, it hadn’t been enough. “You killed all those people back on that train,” he growled. 

“So we did. Get down on your stomach, Morgan,” Colm spat. “Hold your hands behind your head.”

Arthur locked eyes with Sadie, who squirmed against the two men. Her brown eyes, usually a fire in them, displayed a hint of fear. Her beautiful blond hair had come free of it’s braid and tumbled about her shoulders in a messy, blood-soaked heap. 

Arthur’s rage simmered into cold, bitter fear and he slowly got to his stomach and pressed his hands over his head. He was at a loss of what to do. Somewhere in the midst of everything, he had lost his pistol too. 

Everything had been a blur. Until now. Reality hit like a blow and Arthur realized he had sorely messed up.

They had been outnumbered and he had left Sadie alone to go after Colm. 

He was a damn fool. 

Colm dug his foot into Arthur’s back and pressed a rifle to Arthur’s head. “Do what you want with her,” Colm said to the men. 

“No!” Arthur roared and received a knock to the head. His head smacked into the dirt and rocks below him, stars dancing in his visions as Sadie’s screams pelted and scraped at his ears. He looked up, his vision blurry, as he saw them drop Sadie to the ground. One of them used the butt of their rifle and brought it down against Sadie’s leg, one after the other.

She screamed as bone crunched and Arthur did his best to crawl to her, only to receive continuous kicks to his stomach and face. 

This is what Colm did, who he was. He brought pain and chaos wherever he went. 

And Arthur had failed Sadie, bringing her into this mess.

In the midst of Sadie’s screams several shots rang out, echoing through the trees. The men dropped to the ground. Through swollen eyes, Arthur saw Colm drop to the ground, blood spurting from his forehead. Arthur didn’t give it much thought. He got to his knees and half walked, half crawled over to Sadie where she lay in a crumpled heap. 

The rain ceased with only a few persistent droplets. Arthur tenderly pulled Sadie to her back, eyes glancing over her body. Her leg was broken, bent in an angle it shouldn’t be. She held the front of her shirt closed, the men having tore it open. Her face was bruised, an eye swollen and a bleeding lip. She let out a few sobs and pressed closer to him, sobbing into his shirt. 

“You idiot!” he heard Hosea’s voice call out. Hosea and Lenny came out from the clearing and to Arthur’s side in an instant. “You damn idiot,” Hosea said again. Both he and Lenny were dressed to the nines with their weapons. “I told you I’d take care of Colm. We've been tracking them for awhile now.” 

“Gotta set this leg, get you back to Valentine,” Lenny was saying, leaning over Sadie’s leg.

“They killed Mary on the train,” Arthur bit out. He held Sadie in his lap while Lenny saw to setting her leg. This was all his fault. “I couldn’t-”

Hosea’s gaze softened. He let out a sigh and knelt by Arthur. “Christ, Arthur. I am sorry. Colm’s dead, son. You won’t have to worry about getting your revenge any more. Let’s get you back to Valentine.” 

Lenny tied a stick to Sadie’s broken leg and Arthur held her tightly as she held back her anguish. It had been a nasty break from what Arthur could tell. He couldn’t imagine the amount of pain she was in. 

It was a matter of minutes before Lenny hitched up one of the O’Driscoll wagons to two horses. 

Arthur and Sadie settled into the back of the wagon, laying on sacks of grains and potatoes. One lantern hung from a post on the side of the wagon. 

“You are okay?” Hosea asked Arthur. He held up a lantern as he squinted at the two. “You weren’t shot?”

“Just scrapes and bruises,” Arthur confirmed. Sadie lay on the wagon, her head propped up on his lap. She was buried underneath a pile of furs and Arthur’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Lenny will drive you in. It’s too dangerous for me to go into Valentine right now,” Hosea explained. “I will also escort you back to Ambarino, and I want you to stay there, Arthur, and I mean it. I don’t want the Pinkertons coming out there and finding you.”

Arthur didn’t know if he could comply with that, but he nodded. “Thank you, Hosea,” he said quietly. “You saved our hide.”

“You’re an idiot,” Hosea sternly replied. “I just don’t want you following in Dutch’s footsteps, Arthur. When Colm killed Annabelle, Dutch changed and not for the better. You are  _ not  _ Dutch. Remember that, Arthur.”

Arthur blinked. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Hosea-”

“Just go. Mrs. Adler needs help.” Hosea waved to Lenny. “I’ll meet you later.”

As they began to roll away, their horses following, Sadie looked up to Arthur, her brown eyes soft and full of tears. “If it was all for Jake, and Mary,” she said, voice cracking. “Why do I still feel so empty inside?” 

Arthur brushed back a bloodied hair strand and admired her freckles, dim in the lantern light. “I don’t know, Sadie,” he murmured. He wiped away a tear from her cheek. A steady sprinkle of rain began to fall and he tucked in the furs around her. “I don’t know.”

Mary hadn’t deserved that fate. She had left Arthur for a better life, one without worries of the law or right from wrong. She had chosen to exist without him, yet she had been caught up in the outlaw life after all, and paid with it for her life. If Arthur had finished off Colm those few weeks ago, she’d be alive right now. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wagon, and grieved, the rain washing away his tears.

* * *

The early morning sun settled over Valentine for a brief moment, only to be hidden by menacing thunder clouds. Thunder rolled in the distant mountains. Arthur and Lenny sat outside the doctor’s office while Sadie was taken care of. Arthur hadn’t the heart for conversation and stayed silent, and Lenny respected that. Exhaustion had finally caught up to him and his limbs and mind were weary. He had checked out of the hotel room, gathered his and Sadie’s bags, and set them in the wagon. They’d begin the journey home once Sadie was done having her leg looked at. 

“Mister?” 

Arthur looked up to find the sheriff standing there, hat in hand. He held a luggage bag in his hand and his hat in the other.

“We finished cleaning up the train. I saw you with the woman, Mary Linton. She isn’t from around here, but I had met her a few nights ago. Thought since you knew her better, you should take this.” The sheriff stepped forward and placed the luggage in front of Arthur. A baggage tag fell to the side, revealing Mary’s name written in flowing cursive. “She’s to be buried here at our graveyard. I am sorry, mister. It was a tragedy. You should be glad to know that the body of Colm O’Driscoll has been found and is confirmed dead, along with a good chunk of his men. We have not received word who it was that did this, but I have my suspicions.” The sheriff put on his hat and eyed Arthur and Lenny with wary eyes. He made no comment about the blood drenching Arthur’s clothing. “Her body is in the church if you want to say goodbye.” 

As the sheriff walked away, Arthur took a deep breath. He should look at the luggage, should write a message to her father, her brother - Arthur stirred in his seat. Mary’s brother was the whole reason she had come out this way in the first place. What had she mentioned? Chelonians? 

Arthur would have to cross that bridge later. “We’ll take the luggage with us,” he said to Lenny. He gripped his fists and stood, his stiff limbs groaning against the movement, and steeled himself before he walked over to the church. 

“Take your time, Arthur,” Lenny told him softly. “I’ll get the Mrs. Adler settled.” 

The church loomed against the mountain hills, a dark shadow in the dim morning light. Gloom crept over the church like a thick fog. A crowd stood around the end of the stairs, some openly mourning, their sobs uncontrollable. 

It had been a callous act, even for the O’Driscolls. From Lenny’s tellings, the O’Driscolls had been getting cornered and overrun by Hosea and him. The train murders had been in retaliation. Arthur had been a part of many a train robbery, but never had he or his gang taken the lives of the innocents. Until that woman on the ferry, her life cruelly taken by Dutch. O’Driscolls had gone too far this time. 

Arthur wouldn’t blame Hosea or Lenny for this tragedy. He couldn’t. It happened - and Arthur had to live with it.

He made his way up the church’s wooden steps, every step more difficult than the other. The rain had ceased for the meantime and he felt numb as he pushed through the church’s doors. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in a church. Maybe when he was a teenager, trying to find some solace in religion and finding none.

He took off his hat and pressed it to his chest, looking around for someone to tell him where to go. It was a church turned morgue. A pastor greeted him, and Mary’s name was hard to say. Arthur whispered the words, but the pastor understood. He followed the pastor past the bodies covered in blankets, laying on the long wooden pews. The pastor stopped at the farthest row and leaned down, pulling the blanket back softly. 

Arthur’s breath caught as he saw the relaxed look on Mary’s face, her eyes closed and mouth set as if she were sleeping. Her hair had been brushed and braided to the side of her face, making her appear younger. The blood had been wiped away from her neck, the wound wrapped in fresh linen. Arthur knelt beside her and gripped his hat with shaking hands. 

“Mary,” he said. “Mary. You didn’t deserve this. I ain’t gonna be there for your funeral, but I’ll make sure… I’ll make sure you be well taken care of. I’ll write your father, bastard that he is. I’ll… keep an eye out for your brother, leave him a letter for him to find.” He’d write only to Jamie and Mr. Gillis, and leave it at that. 

Arthur leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Mary’s forehead, her skin cold against his lips. He stood up and with his voice caught in his throat, he set the fabric across her face once more. 

“The town will be holding a funeral service this evening,” the pastor said, walking over with soft footsteps. “We lost fifteen men and women, most from Valentine or the outlying properties.”

“I won’t be able to stick around for the service,” Arthur said to him. “Can you… make sure she is buried proper? She ain’t got no family near here. I’ll write them, when I can, and I wanna make sure they know where to visit.”

“Yes, of course. We have her name, but have no other information. Can you let us know where her family is, please?” 

Arthur nodded and followed him to a stack of papers. He wrote down what he could, providing the name of Mary’s remaining family and where they possibly could be living. All he knew is that she had lived in St. Denis.

As Arthur left, he looked at Mary one last time. “I loved you, Mary. Forgive me,” he said to himself, and left her behind.

* * *

The road was bumpy as they left Valentine, Athena and Bob following along. Lenny sat in the wagon seat, while Arthur and Sadie sat in the back of the wagon, relaxing on bags of grain and buried underneath furs. Sadie’s leg had been set tightly. She had it outstretched on a soft pile of furs and Arthur noticed with each bump Sadie hissed under her breath. She was still in pain, yet hadn’t uttered a single word. 

Thankfully the rain was still held at bay. It was midday and the spring sun popped out of the clouds, making their travel easier. Spring birds chirped and Arthur smoked a cigarette, his mind in a billion different places. 

Hosea met up with them as they passed the river. He rode his horse alongside the wagon. “I dropped off Colm where he would be easily found,” he said, approaching them. “The sheriff will find the O’Driscoll camp soon enough. I think they suspect you, Arthur, since you and Mrs. Adler left the scene in a hurry.”

“I spoke to the sheriff. If he has suspicions, he didn’t say,” Arthur replied, his voice soft. “What made the O’Driscolls slaughter a whole train, anyways? That ain’t their style.”

“They’re angry. Lenny and I have been harassing their random bands all around, giving tips to the sheriff, and all that. The train was supposed to be a message, and it backfired on them. They hadn’t counted you and Mrs. Adler would be there. Lenny and I heard about the train too late.” 

“What is your goal, Hosea?” Arthur questioned him. He sat up further on the wagon and leveled a stare at the older man. “Why you stirrin’ the pot?”

“To mislead the Pinkertons,” Hosea replied. He ducked under a low hanging branch and straightened. “They lost their rat when Micah was hung. They lost out on the O’Driscolls. They don’t have a clue where the rest of our gang is. They won’t have much reason to stick around anymore, Arthur.”

“But… you ain’t done yet with them.”

Hosea’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, I am not. But that is my battle, not yours.” 

Arthur mused over his thoughts. “You were tellin’ me not to count on revenge, but this… Hosea, you are eatin’ your own words.”

“I am covering our tracks. We’re bad people, Arthur, and they want our heads for it. I am making sure it doesn’t happen.”

Arthur snorted, but stayed silent. There wasn’t much to say. Colm was dead. Dutch was dead. The gang was no more. 

All that was left was a life on the Adler Ranch until he figured out the next course of action. 


	19. Chapter 19

_ Sadie _

They reached the outskirts of Ambarino within a day, the sun accompanying them the entire way. The blanket of snow covering the mountains of Ambarino had started to recede, revealing the fresh new greenery of the trees and bushes. Besides the wagon ride being bumpy and leaving a bruise on Sadie’s rear, she was looking forward to being home once more. She did not like the fact she would have to be bound to a bed for the first couple of weeks, however.

Arthur had sat beside her in the wagon, then took over leading the wagon once Lenny and Hosea took off once more, leaving Arthur and Sadie to themselves. Hosea didn’t say where he was headed next and Sadie could tell Arthur wasn’t happy with it. She had barely known what to say to Arthur, his gaze distant and his words few. He smoked heavily as he sat on the wagon, shoulders set.

“I am sorry, Arthur,” Sadie said once they were alone, sitting around a campfire. Night had fallen and crickets sang their songs in the distance. They would reach the ranch by noon the next day. She was anxious to get home. “I am sorry about Mary.”

“Don’t be,” Arthur said, tossing a stick into the fire. Sparks rained down. He sat down next to her on his bedroll and leaned over on one knee, his other leg spread out in front of him. Firelight reflected in his eyes. “I have been meaning to apologize for leaving you, back at the O’Driscoll camp. If I hadn’t gone after Colm…”

Sadie lay on her side, a thick blanket covering her. She looked up at him. “He’d have gotten away. Don’t be sorry for that, Arthur. He was our goal and we survived. Maybe by pure dumb luck, but we did.” 

“That we did.” 

“And I been…” Sadie twisted to her back, careful of her leg. It still throbbed with each movement. “I been thinking this was all for Jake. And in a way, it was. Now that it’s over… what now? I still miss him. I still want him back. It wasn’t… it wasn’t enough.” Once she had attacked the O’Driscoll camp with Arthur, she had given into the rage, given into the anger that had been built up ever since the O’Driscolls murdered her husband all those months ago. It had been blind, seething rage and she barely remembered how the fight had gone down. The two men knocking her senseless and breaking her leg, however, was hard to forget. 

“Seein’ Mary again… I can’t get her out of my head.” Arthur rubbed his eyes. 

“Give it time,” Sadie murmured. “You need to allow yourself to heal. It ain’t easy.” She wasn’t completely healed herself and wouldn’t be for a long, long time. Yet she had her home to think about. 

“I was thinkin’... we need incoming cash. I ain’t gonna pursue bounty hunting much anymore. There’s collectors out there, who pay a lot for special pelts. I might make trips every now and then, hunt them down. I gotta find work, Sadie. That much is clear. Whether it be on a ranch… “ he stopped as if considering. “Actually, I don’t know where I could go, besides ranch work.” 

“Think about it later, Arthur. For now, we got the money to survive. Help me on my ranch.”

Arthur leaned back on his cot and pulled a blanket over him. “Thank you, as always, Sadie.”

* * *

They rolled up to Adler ranch, the grass fresh and crisp green against the background of the snowy hills. A pleasant plume of smoke drifted from the chimney. Piles of snow still lingered in several spots, but the rocky and dirt filled paths were clear. Despite the cool air, Sadie could see Abigail hanging up laundry outside, using the warm rays to her advantage. 

Abigail waved once she noticed them and set her laundry aside. She called out for John and Jack, who exited the cabin within the next moment. 

They stopped in front of the house and Sadie could already see the flicker of worry on Abigail’s pretty face. 

“What happened?” Abigail demanded. 

Arthur hopped off the wagon and went to the back, holding a hand out a hand to Sadie. She scooted forward and grabbed his hand, his hand rough and calloused against hers, yet his touch gentle. 

“Bad business with Colm,” Arthur answered. He leaned down and scooped Sadie up effortlessly in his arms.

“I’m okay,” Sadie said, arm tight around Arthur’s back. She held on tight, her head on his chest. Despite the both of them in dire need of a bath, Arthur smelled of cedar with a dash of cigarettes. From this angle, Sadie could see the scar on his grizzled chin, the weariness and pain in his eyes. She was all too aware of his hand wrapped around her back, holding her gently. He moved slowly so as to not bump her leg against anything, his feet crunching softly against the rocks beneath them. 

Sadie was relieved to be home, in her cozy cabin full of memories. Abigail had kept everything pristine and the way Sadie had left it, with the blankets folded neatly and chairs pushed in. She had been right to entrust Abigail to take care of her cabin. 

Abigail followed them into the cabin. “You both are badly bruised. Both of you, sit. John, please take care of the wagon.”

“I wanna hear about Colm first,” John said, closing the cabin door behind him. Jack took a seat at the dinner table, watching with wide eyes. “Didn’t think you guys would run into him so soon.”

Arthur set Sadie down on the couch and pulled forward a chair for her to prop her leg up. She murmured, “Thank you,” as he took a seat next to her. Abigail sat in the rocking chair and John leaned against the fireplace, both looking expectantly at them. 

“Colm’s dead,” Arthur began, and told them what happened in a low, serious tone. Sadie noticed his voice tensed when he mentioned Mary and she reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a short telling; Arthur skipped over the parts where he and Sadie had run back into Sean and Karen. He kept his mention of Mary short, but the anguish in his voice was clear.

“Arthur…” Abigail breathed. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I am so sorry.”

John shook his head. “I wish I coulda been there.”

“It’s over. It is what it is,” Arthur said. “We finished what we set out to do. Lumber should arrive here soon-”

“Arrived this morning,” John confirmed. “There’s plenty of lumber to expand the barn, this house… whatever you want, Sadie. Just stay the word, and me and Arthur will get started on it.”

“Doesn’t have to be right away…” Sadie leaned back into the pillows. “Let’s get settled in and then we’ll decide what to do.” 

* * *

Early in the next morning hours, the sun barely awakened itself, Sadie woke up in a cold sweat despite the fire still cackling in the fireplace. She sat up from the couch and wiped her hair back.  _ What was she doing?  _ She asked herself.  _ What was the point of all this?  _ She had helped kill Colm for Jake. For herself, for what they put her through. Her nightmares had stopped a while ago, but had returned that night. She remembered the men’s greasy hands on her, groping and prodding where they shouldn’t. She hadn’t thought of it in so long but her leg was absolutely throbbing, reminding her of what they did. 

Colm was dead. _ Dead, dead, dead.  _ He or any O’Driscoll shouldn’t haunt her anymore. 

She should be happy the house and barn were being expanded. But that was Jake’s dream, and maybe it died with him.

Sadie shuddered.  _ No. _ She couldn’t think that. This was still her home, and in a way, she was blessed to not be alone during this time of her life. John, Abigail, Jack. Arthur. They needed a home, deserved a home. Sadie was happy to share hers. 

She didn’t think she’d make it without them, otherwise. 

Coffee. She needed coffee. She swung her feet around and braced herself as she stood up on her one good leg. She used the back of the couch as leverage as she hobbled over to the stove and hopped over to the cabinet. She dug around for her coffee and set about getting it prepped.

“Sadie,” she heard Arthur hiss from the loft. “Stop walkin’ around.” 

“I want coffee,” Sadie snapped, sounding harsher than she meant. 

In response, Arthur climbed down the ladder and pulled out one of the dinner chairs. “Sit, I’ll make it for ya.”

Sadie continued scooping out the coffee. 

“ _ Sadie _ .”

She set aside the spoon and turned to him. He was dressed only in jeans, with the suspenders loose about his hips. She let out a breath and resisted the urge to look at his chest. “Okay, Arthur. Have at it.” She accepted the hand he held out and hopped the two steps to the chair, and sat. She wasn’t used to being waited on hand and foot. 

It took Arthur only a matter of minutes to get the water boiling and the coffee prepared. Sadie watched him, eyeing his broad back, the well shaped muscles. Blue and yellow bruises lingered on his ribs and back. She didn’t dare let her thoughts stray to… to  _ what _ , exactly? She hadn’t looked at another man like… like  _ that  _ ever since she met Jake. She accepted the coffee from him and focused her gaze on the dark liquid. She couldn’t have those kinds of thoughts. Not now. Not when she was confused. It was too soon. 

“We’ll start on the barn today,” Arthur said, taking the seat across from her. “Let me and John handle the work. You can… supervise.”

Sadie scoffed at him. “I built this cabin with Jake. I know how to handle a hammer, cowboy.”

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “With that leg? Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Well…” Sadie set the cup down and eyed him. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you. It takes a lot of hard work and we gotta be careful to do it right. This lumber’s been cut already, which is helpful. But it’s up to us to fit it together.”

“Oh, it’s John you gotta worry about. That oaf don’t know much.”

“I haven’t seen your skill with a hammer, either,” Sadie said coyly. 

“You’ll see it soon enough,” Arthur said and took a sip of his coffee. The light teasing glimmer in his eyes, the red on his cheeks… 

Sadie held back a teasing retort. 

She could take it further, but that would tread into… dangerous territory. She wasn’t ready to have that kind of banter, and not with Arthur who had just lost someone he loved not a few days ago. 

She would give it time. 

* * *

Spring and the last frost was upon them by the time the barn was expanded to handle more stalls. Sadie had to watch from the sidelines, nursing her leg, and it killed her. It had been a few years since she and Jake had built the house, but the memory was all too fresh. She instructed best she could to Arthur and John who took to building the barn. She had to grit her teeth knowing she couldn’t hop up and help them put it together, but she was grateful for their help nonetheless. 

Building a barn was a bit easier than a house, to say the least. Arthur and John spent a day digging into the dirt, leveling it out and getting rid of any unnecessary weeds or grass. They spent a few days deciding on a floor plan, and then the real building began. Sadie wished she could be helping. This was her home, after all. Instead, she sat at the sidelines and let the men do the work.

The new, extended barn could hold several cows, goats, pigs, and horses. She would have to begin budgeting for lots of feed for the winter. It was a bit daunting, not knowing how she was going to afford the animals. She would figure out a way, however, to make it all work.

One early morning, the day they were expecting the livestock to show up, she hobbled out of the house, the sun just peeking above the trees. She wore a light jacket, skirts, and one thick boot, and leaned heavily on a crutch Arthur had crafted for her. This was the first day she felt confident enough to walk on her own and she desperately wanted to visit Jake’s grave before the day started. 

The dirt of the gravesite had begun to sprout grass. Soon only the wooden cross would be a sign of Jake’s burial, like an old, faded memory. Sadie settled down on a small stump and let out a long breath. A slow, chilled breeze settled around her.

“Hey, Jake,” she began with a small smile. “I’m finishin’ the house, just like you wanted. The barn and fences are ready for the livestock you ordered. We’ll have a farm yet. Jack, Abigail’s boy, has declared he’s gonna name all of them, after the books we been readin’ to him. You’d like him. He’s a good kid.”

She lowered her gaze, focusing on the grass. She absently played with a loose string on her jacket. “I know this ain’t where we wanted to be. It ain’t you I’m buildin’ a house with. I want you to know that I still love you, Jake. You still here.” She pressed a hand against her heart. “You always will be.” 

She waited a few more minutes, then made her way to the house. It was a quiet morning; John had taken Jack out fishing and wouldn’t be back until evening. Abigail stood in the house at the stove, frying up eggs and bacon. Arthur sat near the fireplace, sketchbook in his lap. 

He hadn’t sketched much recently, but she could see scribbles on a page, Sadie had noticed. She went over to his seat and leaned over his shoulder. “What are you drawin’ today?” she asked him.

Arthur eyed her with suspicion. “Why do you wanna know?”

“You never talk about it. I’m curious.” Sadie wandered over to the couch and sat down. 

“Well…” Arthur shut his journal softly. “It’s…”

Abigail let out a small laugh as she set a bowl on the table. “Ever since I knew him he wrote in his journal. The girls tried to steal it away once. Boy, you was ever cross with us!” 

Arthur rolled his eyes at her. “It ain’t yours to take and you knew it.” 

“We didn’t even have a chance to read it.” Abigail shrugged. She set down a few white plates on the table. “Still, that was the first time I seen you so… angry.”

“It… wasn’t anger. Well, maybe it was. It was private.” Arthur stood up and set aside his journal. Abigail had finished setting up the table for breakfast, with fresh muffins, eggs, and crispy bacon set on a plate. Arthur held out his hand to Sadie and helped her stand up, his hand resting on her hip as she hobbled over. 

“If you must know…” he said as he helped Sadie sit down. He then sat next to her and grabbed the bowl of scrambled eggs. “I been tryin’ to draw... faces. Of Dutch. Hosea. Mary, now. We don’t got any photos of any of them. I wanted somethin’ to remember them by.”

Abigail reached across the table and placed a hand on his arm. “That’s very sweet.” 

“It’s been a bit… difficult. But I’m almost done.” Arthur handed the scrambled eggs to Sadie. 

“Next time we in Strawberry, we can pick up some wooden frames. There’s a carpenter there,” Sadie murmured. She and Jake had met him a couple years prior, when they were in need of supplies for their home. “If you want to display them, that is.”

“Yes. I’d like that.” Arthur gave her a kind look.

Over the next couple of hours, Sadie waited anxiously for the livestock to arrive. She had received a letter a few weeks ago confirming the day of arrival; a farmer who had kindly agreed to deliver the livestock was due anytime soon. 

Sure enough, she spotted a few people arriving on horseback, and she greeted the farmer while Arthur navigated where all the animals would go. The cows, goats, and pigs went to their newly fenced pastures. The farmer was kind enough to deliver enough feed and hay to last for several months, which they stored in the barn. 

John and Jack returned by dinnertime, where they shared their catch for dinner. Sadie had invited the farmer and his two adult sons to dinner as well, since it was late afternoon by the time the transfer was completed. 

That night they shared a hearty meal with Jack pestering the farmer with all sorts of questions about farming. Sadie watched it all with a smile; she hadn’t had this many people in her cabin yet. The farmer and his two sons were friendly and she found out they were old acquaintances of Jake’s back in Blackwater.

“I am sorry about Jake,” the farmer said at the dinner table. The sun had set and they chatted around the cabin, drinking the beer Sadie had been safekeeping. The farmer was older, gray-haired, but charming. “But I am relieved you have such good friends to help you. Jake wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

Sadie’s heart tightened, but she nodded lightly. “He would be proud of where we are now. We even have plans and enough lumber to extend this house. He thought of everything.”

Arthur, John, and the two men sat around the dinner table, playing a lighthearted game of poker. Cigarette smoke settled around them in a cloud. Abigail sat on the couch, knitting a dark green scarf. She had begun a collection with the hopes of selling them to the general store. It wouldn’t bring much cash, but it was something to keep her busy. 

The simple conversation, the drinks, and the laughter made Sadie realize how much she had missed it. Growing up, it had been her and her father, her friends, and their parents. It had been pleasant and heartwarming. When she moved to Ambarino with Jake, the loneliness was difficult to get used to, yet Jake had made it worth it. Without him, the silence was unbearable, when she was left alone with her nightmares.

“How you boys comin’ along?” Abigail asked, not looking up from her knitting. A glass of wine was set on the table next to her and there was a simple, pleasant smile on her lips. Sadie could tell Abigail was enjoying herself and the company.

“Fine!” John huffed, though his disgruntled expression said otherwise. Arthur, on the other hand, had a perfect poker face, revealing nothing. The two farmer men were the same. 

“I heard a rumor,” the old farmer began, “That several people are moving to Colter.”

“Oh?” Sadie startled. “That old mining town?” 

“Heard it on my way through Strawberry. You might be finding yourself with recent neighbors. My son, Theodore,” the farmer waved to the blond man at the table, “actually is thinking of buying land up here.”

Theodore looked up from his cards and flushed at Sadie. He looked like a younger version of his father with soft cheekbones, straight nose, and jet blue eyes. “It’s Theo, ma’am. And yes, land is cheap there. Had a talk with a fella who thinks the mines are worth saving. We stopped there on the way here. Buildings will need some major repair, but…” he shrugged. “There’s money to be made in a new town, especially when one is willing to pay a crew for building.”

Sadie took a sip of her beer and considered. “Well… it’s closer than Strawberry, to be sure.”

“I know Jake was all excited about being away from civilization and all that, but living in Blackwater my whole life… that town has changed immensely from when I was a small boy.” The farmer shook his head. “Didn’t used to be the town it is now. It’ll catch up to you sooner than later, Mrs. Adler. I just want you to be prepared, when it does.”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” Sadie said. 

“Ah ha!” Arthur cheered, putting down his cards. “I believe this belongs to me.” He reached over and dragged a pile of coins and bills towards him, a smug grin on Arthur’s face. 

All three of the men grumbled, but let Arthur take the winnings.

“Well, I think it’s best we turn in for the night. Good night, Mrs. Adler, Mrs. Callahan.” The farmer nodded to Abigail and Sadie and left to head outside where his sons had set up a tent for them. Sadie had offered them a spot to sleep inside, but they had refused, saying they’d be up and out at dawn. His two sons followed him outside and the cabin was quiet once more.

“A new town, huh?” Arthur mused. He finished off the last of his beer and set the glass aside, the glass clicking softly against the table. “Which means law… policemen…”

Jack hopped off his seat and rubbed his eyes. It was late and past his usual bedtime. “We gonna run again, pa?” he asked in a tired voice. 

Sadie frowned. The fact Jack was aware of what the law was and his first instinct was to run… 

John let out a long sigh. “No, Jack. We gotta respect the law now, if we wanna survive.”

“Your pa is right,” Arthur said and reached over to scruff Jack over the head. He eyed John with apprehension. “For once, at least.”

“I don’t like it,” John said through gritted teeth. “We are gonna do what Hosea says. If it don’t work out, it don’t work out. We go back to our outlaw life.”

At Abigail’s stricken look, Sadie knew Abigail was still worried about losing John again. And she might very well still. Yet, they had time to work things out, and Colter might not even be rebuilt. The future was unknown. 

All they could do was wait and see.


	20. Chapter 20

_ Arthur _

The cold, chilled spring days soon shifted into long summer days, the sun rays warm and inviting. Every day, Arthur would wake up in the loft, his nightmares not too far away. Of Dutch, of Mary. He hadn’t bothered opening her luggage; he wasn’t ready to face what lay inside, if there was anything besides clothing. It was like a dark cloud haunting him, and he would bury the thoughts away and focus on his chores for the day. 

Days had turned into a rhythm. Wake up, eat, and work on the chores. Abigail and Sadie focused on their garden, planting row after row of different vegetables. The van der Linde gang had never taught life skills such as gardening. It was an entirely new experience, especially for Abigail, but she thrived under Sadie’s supervision. The garden was soon overflowing with life. 

The melting of the snow had shown a variety of trees Sadie had first planted when she and Jake had moved here. Several apple, pear, and apricot trees were planted at the back of the property, and this was the first year they showed any sign of producing fruit, much to her delight. 

Arthur was beginning to understand how Sadie and Jake had survived out here. It was hard work - they hadn’t had to steal money for their food. Then again, the Adler ranch was not profitable, either. Sadie and Jake had simply survived, lived by the law, and succeeded only because of their hard work and dedication. 

Dutch’s philosophy had been so different.

Sadie’s house transformed over the course of several weeks. Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he had done this much physical labor - dragging wooden logs, sawing, lifting, hammering. He and John both had struggled with the barn, and their next task had been extending Sadie’s house to have an extra room. 

The original structure of the house was kept intact. Day after day, they leveled the ground, built a foundation, then completed the walls and the roof. Sadie inspected the men’s work with a critical eye; after all, this  _ was _ her house and it had to withstand the piles of snow and the unforgiving harsh winters. Arthur and John hadn’t been carpenters or laborers, for that matter. They were usually the brute strength, experts in a gunfight… not house building, of all things.

Early one morning, Arthur rolled around on his pallet up in the loft, sleep evading him. He could hear John snoring lightly in the room below. The summer heat had all but faded with the night air. If it was anything like the day prior, the sun would still turn to be relentless. 

It was no use. He wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon. He grabbed a pair of socks, shrugged on his jeans and a light cotton shirt, not bothering to button it up. The early morning air felt cool and refreshing against his skin. 

He stepped softly down the stairs, not wanting to wake up Sadie asleep on the couch. She’d been working as hard as she could. Her leg, now officially healed, had barely held her back. Her farm was thriving, all thanks to her guidance and perseverance. 

They hadn’t spoken much about what happened with Colm O’Driscoll. It had been a dark moment for the both of them. Arthur still had nightmares of them grabbing Sadie and abusing her like they did. It left a sick feeling in Arthur’s stomach and usually the reason he couldn’t fall back asleep.

He left the house for the barn, ruffling his hair back. He hadn’t bothered to have it cut and it was longer than he was used to. Lately, he’d taken to slicking it back with pomade. It was also in need of a wash, but that could come later. He kept up with trimming and styling his beard, however. He didn’t want to appear like a mountain man completely. 

Athena neighed happily at the sight of him in the pasture. She trotted up to him and swung her head in greeting. “Mornin’,” Arthur said, scratching her neck. He fed her a carrot he had snatched from the garden, much to her delight. 

“You know we gotta can those carrots, right?” Sadie said from behind him.

Arthur resisted the urge to smile and looked to her. She’d put on a skirt over her nightgown, the belt cinched tightly around her waist. Her arms were bare, toned from her time working on her farm and in the garden. A dash of freckles ran down her tanned arms. “You up early,” Arthur said.  _ Damn.  _ She was beautiful, with her hair let down, not yet brushed. __ His heart beat a bit faster and he willed it to be calm. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, coming to stand on the other side of Athena, less than an arm’s length away from him. She scratched the horse’s ear tenderly. “I know you been strugglin’, too.”

“That obvious, huh?”

Sadie shrugged. “You hide it as well as I do. I just… gettin’ to know you. You dwell on things. Like I do.” 

“I’m findin’ you and me are more alike each day.” Arthur made eye contact with her. In the dim morning light, the sun crested the tip of the mountains. He could barely see the chocolate in her eyes. He focused on the scar in her brow, to the roundness of her lips. 

As each day passed he knew he was getting more and more foolish as he watched Sadie. He kept looking for any sign of her taking notice of him, as well - and chided himself every single time. She wouldn’t want him. Yet he cherished each small touch, each small gaze she gave him and hoped he wasn’t reading her wrong. 

Arthur didn’t feel like himself as he reached over, brushing back a strand of Sadie’s hair behind her ear. He loved her hair, how golden it looked in the sunlight. One of the many qualities he found attractive in her. It wasn’t only her looks - it was her tenderness. Her humor, even her anger. 

The ache in his heart pressed him to lean forward, his eyes narrowing on her pink lips as Sadie leaned up, breaths held -

“Uncle Arthur!” Jack called out from outside the pasture. 

Arthur startled and took a step back. Sadie did as well, nervously brushing her hair back. 

“Thought we were gonna go fishing today?” Jack said. He ran over to them, oblivious.

Arthur cleared his throat and scuffed the boy’s hair. He felt the heat in his cheeks as he ignored Sadie’s gaze. “Oh, I didn’t forget. Let’s go get dressed, shall we? You gonna come inside, Sadie?”

“I think I’ll hang out with Athena a little bit longer,” she responded coolly. 

Arthur risked a glance at her and could have sworn she was blushing.  _ Dammit, Jack, _ he thought to himself as he followed the boy back to the house. Yet he couldn’t blame the boy completely. Not when Arthur knew he couldn’t stay much longer, less he screwed up again and drew her down a dark path just like Eliza. Now Mary. 

He knew he couldn’t keep lying to himself about how he felt about Sadie. It’s why he had to leave - soon. 

* * *

The summer night when the house was officially completed, Arthur grabbed his shirt from the ground he had discarded in the heat of the summer day. He used it to wipe his face, drying off the sweat droplets from his forehead. 

“Here,” Sadie said, holding a glass of water to him. Her time spent out in the sun and the garden had given her a pleasant tan and darkened her dash of freckles on her face and arms. Her blue shirt and skirt was dirty from her day spent in the garden. 

Arthur accepted the glass of water and eyed her golden blond hair tied back in a messy bun, stray hairs running loose all around. He took a sip of water. “You happy with our work?” he asked her.

“Well…” Sadie drawled out, looking at the newest addition to her house, hands on her hips. The new room boasted of two new windows, still lacking glass which would be bought later. “It will have to do, I suppose. We’ll have to see if that roof holds, though I don’t think we’ll get rain anytime soon.” 

Arthur didn’t mind her words or suggestions. In fact, every morning or night at the dinner table, he had to stop himself from staring at her. He kept thinking back to the day where they’d almost kissed. Cursed himself for not going through with it. He hadn’t tried to attempt it again. 

All he had to think of was Mary and his mood would go sour.

She hadn’t deserved to die like that. 

“I think Jake would be happy with it,” Sadie continued. 

But it wasn’t the time for dark thoughts. Arthur set them aside and finished off the glass of water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Now we just gotta get the windows and bed frame set up. Did you decide what you wanna do with the room?”

“It’ll be John’s and Abigail’s space. I’m thinkin’ I’ll move back into my room, give Jack the couch. Loft is still yours,” Sadie said, shrugging her shoulders. “We won’t feel so crammed in there anymore.”

“I was thinkin’, Sadie…” Arthur began walking toward the barn to check on Athena. “I was thinkin’ of helping Colter rebuild. They were lookin’ for men. I ran into them while I was out the other day.”

Sadie murmured as she followed him, “So there really is a town being built again. I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Arthur pushed open the barn door and smiled when he heard Athena’s happy greeting. “Apparently, whoever bought the town is made of money. There’s plans to have a post office, general store…” Arthur trailed off, noticing Sadie’s frown as she waited by the door. “You ain’t likin’ the idea?”

“No… I think I will. It’ll be nice, not having to take trips to Strawberry just for supplies. Are they gonna reopen the mine?” 

Arthur scratched Athena’s muzzle and fed her a carrot he had in his pocket. “Dunno. Didn’t say.”

“Well. I guess there’s no helping it. How much would they pay you?” 

He patted Athena’s head and turned back to Sadie. “Enough. I figure I’ll come back here and stay the night. I’d say by the end of summer, maybe fall, you gonna have a brand new town and neighbors.”

Sadie gave him an odd look and shook her head. 


	21. Chapter 21

_ Arthur _

The town of Colter was in need of dire repair. The lack of upkeep and the blizzard heavy winters had rotted much of the wood. Arthur, along with several other men including Theodore, the old farmer’s son, had been hired on to complete the town. There were a few professionals as well, experts in terms of building construction. Arthur and the other men were there just for the grunt work. The goal was simple: to create a new general store, post office, school, and church. Theodore invested his money into buying land for a home, as well as being the one to run the grocery store. 

It was a business Arthur wasn’t used to. He met the rich businessman, George Berry, a younger son of a rich mining town owner further west. George had invested money into land, lumber, blueprints, men, supplies, as well as the gold mine, left abandoned after the storm took out Colter in 1884. George had been attempting to buy all the proper permits this last winter, and had officially been approved to build in spring. Land was cheap in Ambarino, tempting to new families, and it was expected to have several new neighbors by the end of the year. 

George Berry was a friendly fellow and his house was to be built first, since he had a wife and two children he was to bring over. Lumber was brought in from Strawberry and Arthur found himself spending long, ten hour days getting the land ready and building the town. 

It was agreed between Arthur and John: John would stay at the Adler Ranch, taking care of the farm work and the animals, as well as be home for Abigail and Jack. Arthur would help with Colter during the day and return to Adler ranch at night. He would split what he earned with Sadie - a part of him would always feel guilty for taking over her home and he owed her for it.

Weeks passed where Arthur returned home, only to eat dinner and pass out in his loft. There wasn’t much conversation to be had. He and the other men at Colter kept themselves busy; most of them had plans to move to Colter once completed and they were anxious to bring their families there. 

One week, when it was finally his day off, he slept in. He heard John, Abigail, and Jack leave on their way to Strawberry Festival, which invited everyone from the area to sell their wares. It was good for them, anyways. John and Abigail needed to get out of the house, as did Jack.

When it was a little past noon, Arthur shuffled down the loft, groaning at his sore limbs and back, and ate a cold heaping of scrambled eggs. Sadie was somewhere outside, probably taking care of her garden or feeding the animals. Arthur hadn’t helped much in that area lately, so he supposed he should get dressed and ready to help her out. 

Once he had freshened up and changed into casual clothes, he searched around for Sadie, but could not find her anywhere. He had expected to find her in the garden where she spent hours of her time, elbow deep in dirt. He tried not to feel the disappointment. This was the first time in several weeks he had time alone with Sadie and had been looking forward to their conversation. 

With the onslaught of the afternoon sun and the sweat already creeping on his forehead, Arthur decided to head to Cairn Lake for an afternoon swim. He saddled up Athena, noting Sadie’s horse was gone, and wondered if Sadie had had the same idea. She probably hadn’t realized Arthur had the day off, else he felt she would have stayed around. 

He left the ranch, now full of life and greenery with the livestock and the fresh, extended buildings. Arthur remembered the first time he had been there - dreary, covered in snow, and locked in the cellar with Sadie. It hadn’t been a first good impression of the ranch. And now, with Abigail’s knitted decorations, the extra books, the full shelves, Jack’s laughter… Arthur nearly considered it a home. It  _ was _ a home, one Sadie should be proud of.

On his way to the lake, he stopped by Colter, asking the men if they’d seen her around. They were in the process of adding the finishing touches to the general store, and Theo, the farmer’s son, shook his head. “She hasn’t been through here from what I’ve seen,” he confirmed.

Arthur thanked him and continued on his way to Cairn Lake. There weren’t many places Sadie could be and he had a rising suspicion.

When he reached the outskirts of the lake, however, he had his answer. He spied Bob munching on grass, his saddle a few feet away. Sadie’s brown leather bag rested against the saddle, along with a pile of clothing. She’d beaten him to the lake. 

Cairn Lake lay nestled just around the bend in the road. Arthur hopped off Athena and let her go to Bob, then he headed towards the lake. It sparkled against the mountainous landscape. The winter ice had all but melted, revealing the dazzling blue water underneath. Tall pine trees circled it, casting half of the water in shade. The water almost looked tempting in the heat. 

Yet again Sadie wasn’t there. Maybe she had wandered off? Arthur wasn’t too worried. She could take care of herself. 

In the meantime, he pushed his suspenders down and started unbuttoning his shirt while stepping out of his boots, the summer grass cool against his feet. The mountain wind brought a soothing cold draft near the water, a refreshing breeze against his sweaty skin. He tossed his shirt aside and started undoing the button on his pants.

“Well, ain’t you a rare sight these days,” Sadie’s husky voice said from behind him. 

Arthur turned, finding her dressed in a long brown skirt, white shirt, with her hair braided and draped over her shoulder. She wore a large brimmed gardening hat, which fluttered a little bit in the wind. She grinned widely. “You been keepin’ to yourself,” she said. “They finally give you a day off?”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, oddly aware how underdressed he was compared to her. “Sure did. Thought I’d go for a swim.”

Sadie tilted her head and looked him up and down. After a moment’s consideration, she said, “Want some food first? I made too much for myself.”

“Sure.” 

They walked to a patch of green grass with a log and settled down, a basket already halfway open. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done this,” she commented. “Last time was in fall. With the trees turning colors, the cool weather… It’s pretty then, too. Water’s too cold to swim in, though.”

_ Not as pretty as you look now _ . Arthur bit back the thought. It wasn’t the time for those kinds of thoughts and would never be. 

He sat down and leaned back against the log. He lit a cigarette and offered one to Sadie, who sat next to him. They smoked in silence, listening to the wind through the trees, the birds in the background. Sadie produced a bottle of beer from the basket, which they passed back and forth between them. 

“Miss Grimshaw would have my hide,” Arthur mused. He handed back the beer to Sadie, the hops of the beer much to his liking. “She didn’t like it when we just… sat around. Had to be doin’ something all the time.”

“Was she bossy?” Sadie wrinkled her nose. 

“She was, but… she’s the one who got us moving. She lived for her gang and wasn’t afraid to tell us to get moving. I wonder how she’s handlin’ herself?” Arthur shook his head at the thought. He couldn’t see Miss Grimshaw settling down. “How the girls are, too. You’d have liked Tilly and Mary-Beth. Tilly’s basically a sister, Dutch raised her from when she was a young teenager, too.” 

Sadie patted her cigarette over the grass. “I think I would have liked your gang.”

“Considerin’ how well you fight, you’d have fit right in.”

They drifted off in silence. Arthur munched on the jerky Sadie had brought, wondering what else to say.

“You know what makes me uneasy about Colter?” Sadie said.

Arthur lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“I’m not ready to live around people again,” she shrugged. “I liked my quiet and peace around here. But…” she shook her head. “It also made me realize we were naïve. It was more dangerous and we had nobody to rely on but ourselves. Maybe… if we had stayed in Blackwater…” she drifted off.

“Bad things happen anywhere,” Arthur said lightly. “It’s not an outlaw world out there, either. Not anymore. And you ain’t naïve for doin’ what you wanted. In fact, I admire you for it. You had prospects. It just… didn’t happen how you thought it would.” 

“No,” Sadie breathed. “It didn’t.”

“You’ll like Colter. It’ll be a few years yet before it draws any real attention. For now, enjoy your home, Sadie, and what you accomplished so far.” He snuffed out his cigarette against the dirt and stood up. “In the meantime, how ‘bout we go swimmin’? It’s been awhile for me.” 

“I didn’t exactly bring anything to swim in,” Sadie pointed out. “Only my undergarment.”

“I won’t stare too hard,” Arthur teased. It was a lie, naturally. She was beautiful with her sun kissed freckles and soft smiles. It was hard to resist staring at her. “I’ll go first.” The lake, small and high up in the mountains, was free of any fish. He debated keeping his jeans on, decided against it, and dressed down to his underpants. He dipped his foot into the water and shivered. It was freezing. Still, anything was better to get him out of the heat of the sun. He gritted his teeth and waded in until the water met his hips. 

He heard the water splash behind him and turned to find Sadie in her white undergarment, sleeveless and ankle length. The fabric flowed in the water around her ankles. She held her arms crossed in front of her. “You go in first,” she said.

So he did. He dove headfirst into the deepest part of the lake, the water refreshing and cold against his skin. The lake wasn’t very large, yet it was dazzlingly clear. He could see the bottom of the lake, rocks, sticks, and mud alike. He held his breath as he swam to the other side, then broke the surface. The water was shallow enough for him to barely stand at the deepest part.

“Your turn, Sadie,” he said to her. 

Sadie stuck her tongue at him, took a few steps forward, and dunked herself in the water. She swam toward Arthur and popped out of the water with a large splash, purposely directed at Arthur.

It took him by surprise. He slapped at the water, sending a splash her way. 

They were instantly locked in a splashing war, only lasting a few splashes in until Sadie shouted, “I give up!” she spurted, holding her arms protectively in front of her head. “You win, cowboy.” Her braided hair had lost it’s tie and her golden hair surrounded her head like a halo on the water.

“You ain’t called me  _ cowboy _ in awhile,” Arthur smirked at her.

“Well I barely seen you,” she retorted, wiping her wet hair back. She lowered her hands and swam closer to him. “Always busy in Colter these days.”

“There’s work to be done, and the pay’s not bad,” Arthur shrugged. He looked to the side, resisting the urge to look through the water. Sadie’s white gown floated all around her and the fabric was…  _ very _ thin. He gulped. 

Again, this was dangerous territory. The more time he spent away from Sadie, the more he thought of her. He couldn’t have those thoughts. Shouldn’t.

Not when he planned to leave soon.

“Jack’s been asking about where you been. You need more days off,” Sadie said, now in front of him. She had to move her feet back and forth to stay above the water; Arthur was tall enough to stand with his shoulders just out of the water. “I miss our talks.”

“What, John’s husky voice isn’t enough for you?” Arthur said smugly. 

Sadie flicked the water and splashed him. He chuckled at her. “He ain’t you, that’s for sure,” she said. “He and Abigail have been gettin’ close, too. You don’t suppose he aims to propose soon?” 

“Old John Marston? Propose? Nah. Well… maybe.” It’d been awhile since Arthur had had a full conversation with John. Maybe John would try to do something at the Strawberry Festival. 

“Abigail thinks- oh, Christ!” Sadie smacked the water to her right at a brown form slithering beside them. Arthur reached over and yanked her closer to him, his arm around her waist. He swam back to a spot where her feet could reach solid ground. 

“Just a water snake,” Arthur said, though her reaction had spooked him more than the snake. “I think he’s harmless.” The snake swam the opposite direction. 

“Christ,” Sadie said again, her hand over her chest. The water reached her ribs, making her shirt cling to her skin and hug every curve of her breasts. Sadie took a moment to breathe, then realized how much of her skin was on display. She turned from Arthur. “Sorry,” she said.

Arthur bit his lip and reached out a hand, lightly trailing her bare shoulder, down to her arm. He felt her shiver against his touch. “You’re beautiful, Sadie,” he found himself saying, his voice longing. “I keep thinkin’ about you, but I been…” his words trailed off as he tried to find the words. This wasn’t the time. Someone like him didn’t deserve her.  _ Idiot. _ He should have kept his mouth shut. 

She turned back to him, her brown eyes glittering in the sun. Her cheeks were red as she opened her mouth to respond, “Arthur-”

_ Dammit, stop, Arthur Morgan _ , Arthur chided himself. Yet he couldn’t help as he trailed his hand back up her arm and to her cheek where he wiped aside a few wet strands of hair. His eyes lingered at the scar in her brow; he hadn’t ever asked how she had gotten it. He searched her eyes with his. 

He leaned down and sealed her lips in his, his mind roaring a billion different thoughts and cursing his damn foolishness at the same time. It had been too long since he had kissed someone out of passion, out of longing. Her lips were soft against his, soft and hesitant. He was about to pull away, but she pressed against him in response, wrapping her arms over his shoulders. Her breasts pressed against his chest and he was all too aware of the thin fabric between them. His hands roamed down her back and grabbed her by the hips, his body responding all too eagerly to her touch. 

She was a bright light in his dark thoughts. He needed her,  _ wanted _ her, and hadn't realized how much until that moment when little stood between them. 

He broke away from their kisses and kissed down her neck, his eyes full of her. He ended at the top of her breast and felt her fingers through his hair. 

This was dangerous territory indeed. He pulled away, his eyes lingering on her full, round breasts, the nipples hard and pink through the fabric. He was tempted to caress them with his fingers, to nibble them with his teeth.

It wasn't his place. He needed to  _ stop _ . 

Arthur placed a kiss on her forehead and held her close. “Sadie. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

She stirred against his chest to look up to him, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you sorry for-”

“There’s work on a ranch. Some of the men told me about it, said the ranch was lookin’ for men during the winter to spring. It’s a few days away, down near Valentine. I signed up for it. Pay’s good, and…” Arthur trailed off. “I leave tomorrow.”

“What?” Sadie demanded, pushing herself away from him. She had all but forgotten about her modesty with her dress. “You leavin’? After you just…” her nostrils flared and she looked away. Her expression softened after she took a few moments. “You don’t like it here.”

“It’s not that. I love it here,” Arthur breathed. He reached over and took her hands in his, bringing her to face him. Nervousness crept in his voice. “I can’t sleep through the night. I need to find who I am, and I can’t do it in the shadow of who I used to be. I need to keep movin’, Sadie.”

“You have a home here,” she said tenderly. “With me, John, Abigail-”

“No.” Arthur took a deep breath. “Me and John gotta find our own way. He’s his own man. We can’t keep livin’ at your home forever, Sadie.”

“But, you…” Sadie bit her lip. “You do what you gotta do, Arthur. My home will always be open to you.” Despite the light anger in her voice, she stood on her tippy toes and placed a kiss on Arthur’s cheek, then wrapped her arms around him. 

Arthur hugged her back, stunned. Maybe she, too, realized they both needed time to heal. “I’ll write,” he promised. 

“You better. You ain’t gonna go kissin’ me like that and leave me after,” Sadie affirmed, an angry pitch in her voice. She pulled back and locked his eyes with hers. She softened her shoulders. “We can both give ourselves time. Time to find out what we want.” 

Her words were gentle, caring, understanding. It was enough to make Arthur want to stay, to be with her, to learn her secrets… but the darkness in his heart, the history of who he was… he had to keep moving. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and pushed past her, head down. He left for the shore, wiping back his wet hair, his thoughts heavy. He couldn’t face her, not right then. He grabbed his clothing, hopped on Athena, and left. 


	22. Chapter 22

_John_

John paced around the general store, his stomach all in a tumble. Outside, people buzzed around the tables, all sorts of wares set out for buying. There was a waft of barbeque in the air, coming from the saloon nearby. He hadn’t expected this many people in Strawberry and had underestimated how crowded it would be. 

He kept a low profile. His scars, healed and white against his skin, helped disguise who he was. John Marson, outlaw of Dutch van der Linde, was clean faced, scar free, and far dangerous. The current John Marston, scarred, bearded, ex-outlaw, was the exact opposite. 

He was a father and a soon to be husband. That is, if he could manage to get the words out to the salesman. Abigail and Jack were outside, admiring all the crafts from candles, journals, knitted items, to wooden creations. John had claimed he needed to buy cigarettes and entered the general store.

The salesman stood at the counter, fingers crossed on the wooden desk in front of him. He looked at John expectantly; John looked back, balked, and turned to face the canned goods. He could do this. He could. He had faced many a man in a gunfight. 

Why was this so difficult?

“Can I help you, sir?” the salesman finally said in an irritated voice. “Or are you going to keep glaring holes into my canned goods?”

John scratched his head and laughed nervously. He looked around, waited for the last person in the store to walk out, then made his way to the counter. He would be quick. “Got any rings?” he asked bluntly.

“Rings?” the salesman asked, eyebrow lifting.

“You know…” John cleared his throat and leaned over the counter. “Rings. Like… wedding, rings…” the words were dry in his mouth. God dammit, he shouldn’t be like this. 

“Ah, yes!” the salesman broke out into a wide grin, his eyes all knowing. “And what kind of ring were you thinking?”

“Well, uh… the gold type?” John questioned, wrinkling his brow. 

The salesman reached down underneath the desk and pulled out a small box. Five rings sat snugly in little pockets. “You are just in luck. Just got an order last night.” He pushed the box closer for John to inspect.

Two of the rings had tiny little gemstones and were most definitely out of his price range. “How much for these?” he asked anyways. 

“A couple hundred,” was the salesman's answer. “Did you have a price range?”

“I do, and it ain’t a couple hundred.” 

“Then this simple gold band here is more up your alley. It’s simple in cut and we have a variety of sizes on hand.”

After a bit of haggling, John walked away with a brand new ring and hid it in his pant’s pocket. It was a few hours yet until he planned for the moment. He found Abigail and Jack munching on some candy along the bridge. He greeted Abigail with a kiss on the cheek and a ruffle to Jack’s hair, then they left to catch a show at the pop-up tent near the stable. 

John could barely concentrate on the show. This was a complete change of character than five years ago when he had run from Abigail, from responsibility. He had tried to make it on his own, had fallen into the arms of others, had done his own heists and robbings, all because he had been afraid of being a father and husband to Abigail. 

It had taken losing the gang to see where he belonged with Abigail, to be a father to his son, and to be responsible. There wasn’t anyone watching his back, wasn’t anyone to rescue him if things went south. There was always Arthur, but… Arthur had been distancing himself from everyone. He was his own man, and John was his. 

He had a duty to Abigail and Jack. He loved them, as much as he had been scared to admit. He would make this work. 

By evening, they stopped at the restaurant, packed full of people staying over the night. They found a table and sat down in a corner, the conversation loud around them. This time wasn’t right. They drank wine and beer, ate a healthy serving of steak and potatoes, and when the moon was high amidst the stars, they made their way back to the hotel. 

“Let’s take a walk,” John suggested. Jack held hands between him and Abigail. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they made it to Strawberry, John had noticed. The boy was enjoying himself.

They walked towards the stables, the lingering smell of barbeque in the air. Couples and families walked about, not yet willing to retire for the night. 

“I-” John began.

“I-” Abigail said at the same time. She laughed.

“You first,” John said sheepishly. 

“Well…” Abigail stopped them and looked to John and Jack. She reached over and grabbed John’s hand and gripped it firmly. “Sometime next spring, we… we gonna have a baby, John.” Her eyes glimmered with a bit of fear and her jaw was clenched tight as she stared at John.

John blinked. “A…” 

“A baby?” Jack finished, awe twinkling in his eyes.. 

“A brother or sister,” Abigail smiled down at him, though it faded when she looked back at John. “I know it ain’t good timin’, but well, we ain’t been the most careful…”

It was true. They hadn’t been, and they’d been together… _quite_ a bit. Stolen moments during the day when the house was empty, dark nights when Jack had fallen asleep on the couch, finding an escape in the barn of all places - there had been plenty of times. John cleared his throat and tried to find his words.

“I know this ain’t what you wanted John and we don’t make money and-”

“Abigail,” John stopped her. “This… I won’t run this time.” His voice was dry as he considered his next words. “This only…” how would he say it? A fact there was a baby coming along only cemented what he was about to do. 

“Abigail,” he said again. He dug into his pocket and took her hand in both of his. He steadied his breath and held the ring out. “Marry me. I’m gonna do right by you. I’ll make sure we live right, that-”

Tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her face, startling him. “Oh, you silly man,” she chided. “Of course I’ll marry you!” 

With a wicked smile, John kissed her, his fears far away, and he knew they’d be all right.

* * *

Early the next morning, Abigail sat on the wagon seat, holding her hand in front of her. Ever since that morning and through breakfast, John had caught her staring intently at the ring, a small joy on her face. It was such a simple item, but promised so much between them. John couldn’t really believe it, himself.

Jack sat besides Abigail, his face mimicking hers. He was excited about having a brother and sister, and better yet - having a family. John was, too. He admitted it was still hard trying to relate to the boy, but conversation had been… easier between them. When they had gone fishing together, it had been awkward at first and Jack had been more interested in daydreaming or playing with flowers… but they’d gotten along. 

The trip back to Adler ranch was pleasant. The wagon had a few new items Abigail had purchased for the cabin and Sadie. Jack had several new books to get through and John had bought a new leather journal for Arthur; he’d taken notice Arthur’s journal was getting rather full.

Their spirits were high. John couldn’t wait to find some alone time with Abigail; he kept stealing kisses and touches when he could. Abigail was glowing. Her pregnancy was still in the early stages, John had learned, and it would be some time yet before she started showing. Still, she seemed to have energy and the ring on her finger had all but amplified her spirits.

When they reached Adler ranch late in the afternoon the next day, Abigail rushed to find Sadie, gushing about the news. Arthur, dressed for travel with his riding leathers, greeted them outside the cabin, his face somber.

“Oh, Arthur, isn’t it wonderful?” Abigail said, showing off the ring on her finger. 

“I’m happy for you,” Arthur replied, though his expression said otherwise. “Didn’t think you’d do it, John.” He reached out and clasped John on the shoulder. 

“You headed back to Colter?” John asked him. “We passed by it on the way here. It’s making progress.” 

“I’m headed to Emerald Ranch,” Arthur confirmed. At John’s confused take, Arthur continued, “They’re payin’ me a bit more and the work is stable through spring. I’d have told you sooner, but…”

“This is rather sudden,” Abigail said. Sadie stood by the cabin door, arms crossed. Abigail went to stand by John and put her arm through his. “Well, I had wanted to tell you the news at dinner tonight, Arthur, but… we’re going to have a baby, John and I. Next spring sometime.” Her voice sounded sad as she gazed at Arthur - she hadn’t realized he had been meaning to go. 

Sadie and Arthur both looked surprised, but it was Sadie who said, “Congratulations!” She hugged Abigail, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

John frowned. There was something off between Sadie and Arthur. “Hey, Arthur, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Arthur gave a hug to Abigail, said his congratulations and goodbyes, and followed John. Abigail almost looked angry at Arthur and she had every right to, John thought. He was up and leaving them out of the blue.

They walked down the gravel path to the barn where Athena, completely saddled and ready to go, munched on a pile of grass. If John had arrived an hour later, he’d have completely missed Arthur. “What’s the meaning of this, Arthur? You up and leaving us to go work on some _ranch_?”

“I can’t do this much anymore, John.” Arthur said, his mouth set in a firm line. “No matter what I do, I can’t… I don’t deserve this, John. This life. It ain’t mine.”

“If it ain’t yours then it isn’t mine,” John huffed. “We are in this together-”

Arthur shook his head. “Not this time. You got a family to worry about. Sadie’s a blessin’ in disguise. She’s willin’ to share her home with you-”

“And _you_.”

“I can't escape my ghosts. I need some time to think, John. You can take care of yourself, Abigail, and Sadie too. Me, I’m…” Arthur licked his lips and looked away. “I gotta find who I am.”

Athena neighed, interrupting the two of them. At Arthur’s whistle, she walked over and he grabbed her reins. John gripped his fists as he watched Arthur hop on Athena, turn, and stare at Sadie.

“I seen you look at her,” John said quietly. The longing glances shared between Arthur and Sadie were unmistakable, even to John’s eyes. It had helped Abigail pointed it out to him to begin with. 

“I can’t drag her down with me.”

“Ain’t that her choice to make? She’s her own woman, Arthur. She’s been hurt just like you.” 

“When did you go and get all philosophical?” Arthur sighed down at him. 

“We both learned from the best. I just… Dutch kept runnin’, Arthur. Hell, I did too. You can’t do the same.”

“I won’t.”

John wouldn’t get through to him, that was clear. “Wait.” He went to the wagon and dug through the supplies to find the journal he had purchased for Arthur. He jogged back over, held it up and leveled a glare at him. “This is yours. You be sure to write and come visit. Baby is due in the spring.” 

Arthur accepted the journal with a grimace. “Sure.” He glanced back up, nodded his head towards the women and Jack, and then clicked his tongue. Athena responded with a neigh and lightly galloped down the road, and soon, Arthur was out of sight. 

John tried to ignore the protest on the tip of his tongue. Arthur didn't know how to be happy and had run at the first sign of it. 

But it was no longer his job to chase after Arthur. He had a family - and he was beyond irritated Arthur hadn't considered himself a part of it. 

One of these days Arthur would see differently, and John hoped it wouldn't be too late. 


	23. Chapter 23

_Sadie_

She felt like she was in a dream. 

It had been nearly two months since Arthur had left. Two long summer months of the same day over and over again. She was living the life Jake had wanted for them every day and yet it felt like it wasn’t enough. Still, she tried her best and her farm flourished. 

There had been a meeting with Theodore the other day and an agreement was set between them. She was to sell him eggs for his general store, which wouldn’t be an issue. She had enough chickens and daily eggs to feed themselves plus some. There had been a recent hatching of chicks and John had expanded the chicken coop to accommodate them. Jack had taken to it as his morning chore to collect the eggs, which he was happy to do, and he and Sadie currently rode a wagon towards Colter with a basket full of eggs.

She had heard the news Colter was nearly complete. Several families had arrived in the past few months and finished their own homes, and frankly, Sadie was nervous to see it and had avoided heading into town. With her and Jake residing so far away, she felt some attachment to this land; like it was hers and all these new people were trespassers. Which was foolish. 

She was curious if George Berry, the new owner of the mine, had found some wealth buried in it. When she had first learned the history of Colter, it had been a small settlement, but a drastic storm had collapsed much of the mine and destroyed several buildings. People had abandoned it and left it to rot. 

And now, as she approached the town of Colter, she felt uneasy. Trees had been cut to open the land. Brand new buildings - not log cabins, but with finished, smooth wood, stood along the streets of Colter. The buildings didn’t look ill made, either. They could probably stand the harshness of winter, which happened to be only a few months away. Fall was around the corner and there was a chill in the air reminding everyone. 

The town was eerie with a lack of people. She stopped by the general store, a fresh new building standing on the foundation of where the old, destroyed building had once stood. She could spy people inside through the small windows. 

She stepped off the wagon and lifted Jack to the ground. “One treat, your momma says,” Sadie said to him. “No more.”

“Okay!” Jack entered the store without another word.

Sadie grabbed the basket of eggs from the wagon and followed him in. A bell rang when she pressed open the door and she blinked, surprised at the fullness of the store. There were canned goods, home supplies, fabric, sugar, flour… she cleared her throat. It was so close to home. She’d forgotten how convenient having a store like this was.

“Ah! Mrs. Adler!” Theodore called out from behind the counter. In front of him, a young woman in a pretty gold dress and feathered hat looked over to Sadie. She was very young with a round face and small lips, her blue eyes wide with delight. A small child lingered at her skirts, barely older than three, her hair full of curls.

“How have you been, Theo?” Sadie asked him. She crossed the space and set the basket on the table in front of him. “Fresh farm eggs.”

“Ah yes, thank you! I’ve never been better.” Theodore took the basket and set it aside. “Mrs. Adler, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Berry.”

“Please, call me Anna,” Anna said with a grin. “I was wondering what other poor soul moved up here. I hear you’ve been here for, what, six, seven years by yourself?”

“With my late husband, yes. And Sadie is fine.” Sadie scratched her arm; compared to Anna, she was severely underdressed with her patched skirt and simple shirt. Anna, on the other hand, was wearing what looked like a very expensive dress. This wasn’t a woman who did outside work, that was clear. 

“We just moved up here a week ago ourselves,” Anna said. She pushed her daughter in front of her. “This is Elizabeth, my daughter.”

“Hi,” Sadie said with a smile. She waved Jack over. “This is my friend’s son, Jack. They live with me at my ranch.” Jack stopped by Sadie’s skirts, shy himself. 

“Hello, Jack.” Anna’s smile was warm. “Well, I was just telling Theo here,” Anna went on. “This isn’t going to be a ghost town for much longer. Five families are moving here within the week. From here to Strawberry, land has been pretty cheap.”

Sadie had heard of the cabins being built south of Colter. 

“Please, I’d love for you to come to dinner with my family,” Anna finished. “Bring your friends, I’d love to get to know people around here. I am hopeful that within the next year, we’ll have a proper teacher so our children can attend school, perhaps even church.”

The church part was highly doubtful if Sadie were to ever attend, but she knew Jack would benefit highly from a school. He could only learn so much from her and the others. “Yes, I think that’s a fine idea. I’ll be sure to let my friends know.”

“Fantastic. I’ll be taking my leave, I’ll keep in touch!” Anna gave a wide, bright smile to her and Theo, and left with her daughter, leaving Sadie alone with Theo.

“Mr. Berry is hiring men for the gold mine,” Theo said. “They’ll clean it up and get it going once more.”

“I didn’t think Colter was profitable with the gold here,” Sadie said wryly. 

“Mr. Berry is convinced there is. Anyways, I’ll be happy to see more people around here. Mrs. Berry has so far been my only customer.” Theo took the basket of eggs. “My pa would always tell stories about how Blackwater only used to be a post office. Now there’s shops, streets… they have the advantage of a railroad, but even then, they didn’t have that. Perhaps we’ll see it up here someday?”

“I hope not,” Sadie sighed. She turned to Jack, who held a bag of candies in his hand. “We’ll get this, Theo.”

“Of course. Tell Mrs. Callahan I’d be happy to sell her knitted things here. With winter coming, I’m sure we could find some buyers.” 

Abigail would be happy to hear that. 

With the eggs delivered, Sadie stopped by the post office out of mere curiosity. The building still smelled of brand new wood and paint, and one man sat at the counter. He was an older fellow, heavy set, dressed in the outfit of a postman. He had the largest handlebar mustache Sadie had seen in awhile. 

“You must be the Mrs. Adler,” he said. He leaned over the desk and placed down an envelope. “My first customer.”

“How did you-”

“It was a good guess. I’m Tidus Templeton, ma’am. Looks here you got a letter from an Arthur Callahan.”

“From Uncle Arthur?” Jack cheered at Sadie’s side. 

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She hadn’t heard from him ever since he had left and it had been… it hadn’t been awkward. No, that wasn’t the proper word for it. Maybe guilty, the sense she had allowed another man to enter her life, to potentially live the life in Jake’s stead... and she hadn’t tried to think of it much.

But as she looked at the letter, Arthur’s cursive plain as day, loneliness cut through her. She missed him. All they had done was kissed and it had been clear as day how the two of them felt about each other. Yet she had seen the guilt in Arthur’s face, the resistance. He was lost with himself. 

And he had run from her. 

“Thank you,” she murmured to the postman and stuffed the letter in her pocket. She would read it later when she was alone.

She went about her day, the letter practically burning a hole in her pocket, pressuring her to read it. She helped Abigail with the garden, prepped apples for canning, and set to washing all the laundry. Every day there was something to stay busy with, but there were sometimes when all the chores were done, Abigail, John, and Jack were in their room, and Sadie lay awake in her bed, not able to sleep. She couldn’t read, she couldn’t focus on much.

When the sun set behind the trees, she found herself by Jake’s grave, and took the letter out of her pocket. She wasn’t usually bothered when she was by the grave and spent her quiet moments here. Reading the letter in front of Jake’s grave almost felt like a betrayal to who Jake was… but he wasn’t like that. He’d want her to be happy and her heart had been dying to read the letter.

Barely visible in the dimming sunlight, it read - 

_Dearest Sadie,_

_I have made it to Emerald Ranch and spent some time here. It is simple work of minding the cattle, sheep, and horses. I have come to understand the people here at Emerald Ranch excel at what they do and they know how to run a business. I travel to and from Valentine every now and then, escorting sheep or cattle for auction. Besides a few reckless bandits along the way, there have been no issue, and things are peaceful here._

_There is not much excitement here, either. I get along with the other men, and we play poker and smoke and get along as well as we can. I have come across several men - Seamus, to be exact - who… reminds me of my outlaw days. He’s only a few of the sketchy people around here and I seen his dealings in the night._

_The valleys here are beautiful. It reminds me of back west, with the rolling hills and bright green trees. I’ll be honest, Sadie, I miss the mountains of Ambarino, but it’s your smile I really miss. There ain’t much here that makes me smile unless I think of you._

_I feel bad for running. I really do. It was foolish, but - I don’t got no skills besides being an outlaw. I need to find who I am. I can’t offer you much. I been talking to the stable nearby and working there, as well - I been learning the in and outs of running a stable business and maybe one day I can aspire to be a businessman._

_I can’t help but think I done the wrong thing by leaving you._

_If you’d have me - I aim to return to you in spring. After sending this letter, I am going to be on leave for several weeks on a cattle drive and I do not have word for when I return. I look forward to seeing you again, dearest Sadie._

_Yours, Arthur._

Sadie crumpled the paper to her chest. She hadn’t expected her tears, nor had she expected Arthur to be so… honest. She had been blaming herself as to why he left - maybe she wasn’t good enough, maybe it was too soon since she was a widow, maybe - and his words put her worries aside. At least a little bit. 

Spring? That was at least six months away.

She looked to Jake’s wooden cross and swallowed hard. She would treasure him, always, and she had loved Jake with all her heart. She hadn’t expected to be swayed by another, especially mere months after his death. Yet she couldn’t have asked for a better man to walk in her life, nor better friends she had found in Abigail and John.

These next six months she’d spend focusing on herself. It was time for her soul to heal, for her to accept the hand she’s been given. The O’Driscolls were gone, Abigail was happily expecting, and John had turned from an outlaw to hard working husband. They had all grown in the last few months and everything had settled into place. 

“Sadie?” Abigail asked quietly in the dark. She held a lantern in one hand. “It’s getting cold. You want some hot chocolate?”

Sadie sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I’ll go inside.” She caught Abigail’s worried look in the lantern light. “I’m fine. Just, read Arthur’s letter, that’s all...”

“I didn’t want to interfere much, but…” Abigail pulled her shawl closer around her. “Arthur’s a good man, one of the best. He cared so much for others, he forgot to care for himself. Give him time. He won’t abandon us, or you.”

“I know.” Sadie led the way back into the warm house. John, dressed in his working clothes, sat on the couch, a book open on his lap. His black hair had grown near his shoulder, swept currently behind his ears. Sadie opened up the letter and pulled out a paper that had _John & Abigail _written on the outside. “Letter for you, from Arthur.” 

“Finally!” John said and grabbed the letter. “You doin’ alright, Sadie?” he caught notice of her face.

“I’m fine. I’ll be in my room.” Sadie left them to read their letter in private. She would be all right. One day at a time - and then spring would be here.


	24. Chapter 24

_Arthur_

Winter wasn’t as harsh in the valley than it had been in Ambarino mountains. There was still a feet or so of snow, but that was nothing compared to the winter Arthur had to endure last year. The winter days were spent on the fields, in the barn, or simply in the room provided for him at the ranch. 

The ranch hands were like him. Young men and women in need of money and a place to work. Some of them sent money back home to their families, while others were in search of starting their families. 

Working at Emerald Ranch proved to be a strange time. Arthur learned much during that time, from how to properly deliver a calf, to herding, and minor repairs. At times it was intense, labor intensive work. Other days, he had plenty of time to spare, and spent his time roaming around the valley.

Truth be told, even though he got along fine with the other ranch hands, he plain missed his friends. He debated traveling to Ambarino, but with the recent snow, it would take nearly a week to get there, a week to get back. He had promised to stay at Emerald Ranch until March and couldn’t be gone for such a long time. 

He shouldn’t have left. Shouldn’t have left her behind. He had thought he’d find answers when he left, only to realize he had left his heart in Ambarino and there were no answers to be found. He longed to hold her in his arms again. 

He kept the letters Sadie had written him pressed in his journal. He had taken too long in writing her one, yet now that he had, they exchanged letters at every chance. They were simple thoughts, writings about their days, their recent happenings. Every so often Arthur would receive a letter from John and Abigail. The two were happy and settled - they had postponed their wedding until Arthur returned. 

He felt bad about being the reason for the delay. 

Days dragged on. Every day he’d wake at the crack of dawn, work on the chores, have a smoke with the men, then retire to bed. Some days they’d drive cattle or sheep to Valentine for the auction, some days he’d stay close to the ranch. His days off he’d spend hunting for drawing in his journal; his sketches had become more complex and detailed.

He had completed portraits of Mary and of Dutch. He had finally narrowed down a likeness to them, from Mary’s soft cheekbones to the beauty mark on her cheek. For Dutch, his black hair and the curls at the nape of his neck. His dark, strong, ever judging eyes. Arthur wished he had been able to salvage the portraits of his own mother and father, but they had been lost after the Pinkerton ambush.

His memory of his mother had faded. He remembered her kind eyes - but the memory stopped there. He couldn’t get it out on paper. Lyle’s face was more clear, the picture from his Wanted poster a vivid memory. The man was a splitting image of Arthur, and he absolutely hated that fact. Lyle’s face wasn’t worth drawing or wasting paper on.

For now, he kept the drawn images in his journal and would find frames for them later. 

When the last snow melted from the valley, the tides of spring not far off, Arthur left his room early in the morning. His last day of work. He kept the most recent letter from Sadie tucked away in his pocket, words of her success with her farm, with Colter and it’s expansion, and the ever loving, kind words she spoke of him.

 _I miss you_ , she had written. _Spring can’t come soon enough._

Arthur didn’t deserve her. Never had - but he couldn’t think of anyone else. Couldn’t bear the thought of being away much longer. The instant he received his last paycheck, he was out, allowing himself to return to Ambarino. 

He would allow himself to be foolish once more. 

“You’re up early,” Lilly Millet said softly, smoking a cigarette outside of her room. A woman with soft orange hair and a pretty face, the tiredness in her eyes betrayed her. The houses she and Arthur lived in were tiny, cramped, and shared walls with the other ranch hands. Only a handful of people lived there.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Arthur shrugged. He grabbed his own cigarette and settled on the chair besides her. He cleared his throat. Last night, like other nights, had been no different. He’d heard Lilly and Cooper arguing in their tiny room and it hadn’t been pleasant. Money troubles. Cooper was bleeding her dry.

In the mid morning light, Arthur could see the bags under her eyes. The swollen eyes. She wasn’t happy, that was plain. It was hard for her to leave. She had no prospects, no leftover family - only Cooper, a bum of a boyfriend who spent his money on booze and gambling. 

He was Eugene’s main ranch hand. Eugene, owner of Emerald Ranch, and a bastard at that. Arthur tended to stay clear of him. 

He took a long drag of his cigarette and leaned his head back against the wall. Cattle stirred in their pastures; it was a quiet morning. It was also the last stretch for Arthur. One last ride to Valentine, and then he was gone from this place. 

“There was a loan shark here,” Lilly whispered, holding the cigarette to her mouth with her arms crossed. Her eyes were distant, nearly vacant. “Cooper has three days before they return.”

“You need to get out of here. Leave Cooper behind,” Arthur replied. He shot her a steely look. “I told ya. There’s other ranch work. We only just received word of a ranch startin’ up in the Big Valley. You should just… leave. Plenty of work up there.” 

She lightly scoffed and shook her head. “Not yet.” 

Arthur grimaced. He’d said his part plenty of times. There was only so much he could say for her. He looked up to the large ranch house, lost in thought. A white movement in the window caught his attention and he sat up in his seat, eyes squinting. Eyes stared back at him. 

“Miriam Wegner,” Lilly said. “Still hasn’t come out of that house. Poor thing. You think Eugene is still keeping her locked in there, or is she too heartbroken to come out?”

“Dunno.” Arthur frowned. She hadn’t left the house, ever since he had gotten to the ranch. Eugene didn’t even like people walking up to the house. 

There was nothing Arthur could do for Miriam, either, not without risking his job or the law. All he knew is a Joshua Burgess had been Miriam’s beau, then killed in an accidental shooting. Arthur had seen the bloodstains in the old saloon, the gravesite for Joshua. Nobody spoke of it, only to say it was an _accident._

It was hard for Arthur to believe that. It was also hard for Arthur to believe Miriam was too heartbroken to leave, but it wasn’t his place to say so.

His day continued with a cattle drive to Valentine later that morning. With not a hiccup along the way, the cattle were delivered and the other ranch hand - Cooper - left to go visit the bar. Arthur chose to return back to Emerald Ranch. A saloon visit with Cooper was not on his agenda and never would be. He couldn’t understand how Lilly chose to stay with him, but again, it wasn’t his place. 

The road between Valentine and Emerald Ranch had become familiar. The sky was vacant of any clouds, the afternoon sky bright against the lush, rolling hills of the valley. Every now and then Arthur managed to catch sight of roaming Buffalo, usually on his own adventures around the area. He tended to stay clear of them, however. Even Athena seemed to know better.

As he went, he noticed a fallen horse by the side of the road. From the stillness of it, he could tell it had passed. The brown muzzle looked familiar, however - Charlie, he was sure of it. A horse owned by one of the ranch girls. _Where was she?_ Arthur looked around, but she wasn’t to be found. 

He left the horse behind, feeling grim. He had liked Charlie. The horse had a fiery, spunky temper. Reminded him of Sadie. Arthur smiled at the thought. He missed her quick retorts, the way her cheeks turned red when she was about to argue. 

Arthur returned to his tiny room, leaving Athena hitched to the post outside. It was time. Time for him to leave and return to Ambarino. 

He would need to talk to Eugene for his last paycheck. As he packed his bags, he became aware of arguing somewhere outside. Cooper was still in Valentine, it couldn’t be him and Lilly. Not many people were left to argue. Curious, he slung his pack over his shoulder and left his room. 

The female’s voice arguing was very familiar. He’d recognize that husky tone anywhere. Without thinking, he plopped his bag on Athena’s saddle and headed for the front of the house, passing the garden, his hands clenched at his sides as his heart pounded. 

Sadie stood on the porch, dressed in a deep blue skirt and light brown jacket. She was in the middle of arguing with Eugene, pointing between him and the house. The ranch girl who owned Charlie stood in the garden, hands covering her mouth as she looked nervously around. Arthur thought her name was Cynthia. No one argued with Eugene, less they got on his bad side and risk getting kicked off the ranch.

Sadie’s golden hair was swept back in a braid, her skin flushed as she glared daggers at the older ranch owner. Her words faltered as she caught sight of Arthur, brown eyes widening. 

“This your woman?” Eugene demanded of Arthur. “Get her off my ranch!”

“I ain’t no ones!” Sadie snapped back at him. “I want to know if you are keepin’ a woman locked in here against her own will!” 

“You-” Eugene reached over and grabbed her by the arm. He dragged her off the porch, Sadie howling against his grip, only Arthur closed the distance between him and them and shoved Eugene away in a fury. Eugene toppled backwards and landed against the stairs of the porch.

“Don’t touch her,” Arthur growled, putting himself between Sadie and him. “She’s right, you know. We know Miriam is in there. We know there’s some fishy business you runnin’ here, mister. We need to hear it from her, not you.”

Eugene got to his feet, fists raised. “It is none of your goddamn business!” After a moment’s hesitation, he swung a fist to Arthur’s face.

Arthur blocked it with his arm, reached out with his left, and grabbed Eugene by the scruff of his shirt. He brought a fist to the man’s face and let go of the fabric. He didn’t want to get into a full brawl.

Eugene thought otherwise. The older man recovered quickly and charged Arthur, using the weight of him to shove Arthur to the ground. Arthur blindly squirmed on the dusty road, exchanging kicks and fists. He elbowed Eugene in the gut, sending him back, and landed a punch once again to the man’s cheek. 

Eugene fell to the ground in an unconscious heap, blood pooling from his nose. Arthur shook his hand, knuckles bloodied, and cursed. _Shit._ Eugene had friends in the sheriff’s office. This could easily get Arthur arrested for what he’d done. 

“Hey, cowboy,” Sadie was saying, her hand on his shoulder. She peered up at him, concern in her eyes. “I didn’t mean-”

“No bother.” Arthur took a deep breath and motioned to the speechless ranch hands. Five in all. They had no love for Eugene and disdain was clear on their face. “This is for Miriam,” he declared. He reached down and fished through Eugene’s pockets for keys. The house was always locked, that much he knew.

Cynthia and Lilly were the first ones to the door. “We ain’t gonna snitch to the sheriff on you, Arthur,” Lilly was saying as Arthur unlocked the door. “She has family, I think, in New York. She can go there where it’s safe.” 

Arthur was nodding. Once the door was unlocked, the two women went inside. Arthur was hesitant as he entered, looking about the room. It was simplistic inside, despite the elegance of the outside of the house. It lacked a woman’s touch of decor, books, paintings. The walls were in dire need of repair, same with the floors. Water damage lingered in the walls. In one room sat a desk with a bunch of papers and envelopes. 

“This is disgusting,” Sadie said, wrinkling her nose. 

Arthur looked down to her, still not believing she was here. He heard chatter upstairs. “What are you doing here?” he asked her softly. 

“I thought… thought you might need an escort.” Sadie grinned at him sheepishly. “This ain’t how I thought it’d go, but I ran into Cynthia. She told me the mystery behind Emerald Ranch. And how everyone was too scared to ask about Miriam. I couldn’t just… stand by.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Arthur shuffled on his feet. “I didn’t… it wasn’t my place to ask. About Miriam.”

“I know.” Sadie shrugged. “There’s no proof of her bein’ locked against her will. But I had a feelin’, you know? Rather me than you, anyways.” 

“Arthur!” Lilly called from the top of the stairs. “The room’s locked. We need the key.”

Arthur and Sadie pounded up the stairs without a second thought. Overall, the house was dimly lit and smelled of mold. Eugene hated people coming into the house, which meant he didn’t have to worry about appearances. Where did he spend his money, then?

It mattered little at this point. Arthur tried a few of the keys until one of them clicked, and he pushed open the door tenderly. Lilly and Cynthia passed by him. One of them gasped.

“Miriam,” Cynthia sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

Miriam sat on her bed, dressed in a simple white shirt and skirt. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders and her cheeks narrow, eyes gaunt and sunken in her face. She looked half starved. 

“Why didn’t you ever bang on the window, call for help? We saw you, countless times!” Lilly demanded. “All your daddy did was say you didn’t want to see us!” 

“Daddy threatened to kill you, or others. Just like he did with sweet Joshua,” Miriam said, her voice floaty. Her eyelids shuddered. She lifted her foot, the skirts falling to show her bare ankle. A shackle rested around it. The others stared at her in silence. “If you please-”

Arthur used the keys without another word and the shackles fell to the floor. The skin around the ankle was red and calloused. 

“She needs an escort,” Arthur said simply. He looked to Lilly. “Me and Sadie here, we travelin’ up to Ambarino. We can make a side tour and drop you off at Big Valley. Or get you both squared away towards New York, like you said.”

“New York,” Miriam breathed. “My cousin, Annabelle - I know she moved there with my Uncle. But I don’t know…”

“We’ll dig for answers,” Sadie declared. “Come on, Arthur, there has to be somethin’ on that desk downstairs.”

“Pack her items and get her ready to leave,” Arthur suggested, then followed Sadie out of the room and to the den below. Arthur wanted nothing more than to steal time away to talk to Sadie, to see how she was, how the farm was - but that could come later. They worked together, skimming through the pages on the tables and the envelopes. Arthur tucked away the envelope with his name on it. His last payday. He was owed it, anyways.

“Here!” Sadie dug out faded brown envelopes from a box tucked away in the corner. Envelopes marked clearly for Miriam from Annabelle. Unopened, hidden away out of Miriam’s sight. Anger rippled through Arthur. If he had known it was this bad, he would have done something.

The address written on each was from New York. That was a good start, at least. 

The three women had made their way downstairs. Miriam had changed for travel, dressed in fresh clothing and her hair pulled back. Lilly held a luggage bag for her while Miriam leaned on Cynthia for support.

“I got family that way,” Cynthia said to Arthur. “I can escort her. Best we leave soon.”

“Here.” Arthur walked over and took the bag from Lilly. He handed the letters to Miriam. “Letters from Annabelle. There’s an address on it. Can you afford the train fare, Cynthia?”

Cynthia nodded. “Unlike others,” she glared at Lilly. “I can save my money.”

Lilly scowled at her, but ignored her comment. “I’ll hold Cooper at bay when he gets back. You best be gettin’ away, Arthur. I’ll explain it to the sheriff once he gets here. Once he sees the shackles, he won’t have any room for argument.”

“I’ll see you off until you on the train.” Arthur went to Miriam’s side and took her arm. He mentally hissed at how frail she felt. She looked ready to faint at any moment. “Did he do anythin’ to you, ma’am, that we should let the sheriff know?”

Miriam appeared hesitant. “He... he would get angry and… when he was drunk, he’d hit me, and-” she shook her head and shut her eyes. “He got so angry at me for seein’ Joshua. He ain’t ever been a good father, but once I started seein’ Joshua, behind his back... he killed him. He kept me locked up so I couldn’t talk, callin’ me spoiled goods.” 

The three women were fuming at her comment. Arthur wished he had punched the life out of Eugene for what he had done under their very noses. 

They were all at fault and it had taken Sadie all but two seconds to gather her wits and solve it. 

The other ranch hands waited outside. They had tied Eugene’s hands. He was now awake and alert, cursing at everyone. Cynthia ran off to quickly pack her own bags.

“Miriam!” Eugene shouted once he saw her. He was missing one of his front teeth, which Arthur took pride in. “You bitch, you dare leave me? You dare walk away from your father?”

“Don’t look at him,” Arthur soothed Miriam. He whistled for Athena as he walked towards the station. The afternoon train was due soon and he swore he could hear the train whistle in the distance. There couldn’t have been better timing. The quicker she was gone, the quicker Eugene could be dealt with, and Arthur could vanish once more.

Cynthia caught up to them at the train station as the train started rolling in. Arthur purchased the train tickets himself and handed them to her. 

“That snake Seamus went to get the sheriff. We’ll be gone before he gets back, though,” Cynthia said. She tucked away the tickets in her pocket. “There were too many witnesses for Eugene to get out of it this time.”

Miriam had the envelopes from Annabelle pressed to her chest as she stared blankly ahead. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“We stood by too long,” Arthur said. “I hope you find your family, Miriam.” 

Miriam nodded. Her eyes fluttered, glistening with a wave of tears. Despite the tears, there was an encouraging light in her eyes.

Arthur watched silently as Cynthia and Miriam boarded the train. Somewhere during the time he was waiting, Sadie had grabbed his hand. They waited patiently, side by side, until the train whistle sounded and the heavy wheels began to turn ever so slowly. They waved to the two women as it departed.

Silence. Arthur hadn’t thought his time at Emerald Ranch would end like this. He lightly squeezed Sadie’s hand.

“We best avoid Valentine,” Arthur said. “It’s gonna get dark soon, too.”

“We’ll ride for a few hours,” Sadie said gently. 

Arthur turned to look at her, soaking her in. All anger had fled her chocolate eyes, replaced with a soft, kind gaze. It had been nearly six months since Arthur had last seen her. She hadn’t changed. Her dark freckles still caressed her face. He wondered if the freckles trailed down her body. 

There would be time for that later. “How did you know she was kept against her will? We was all told it was Miriam herself who refused to leave,” Arthur asked her. 

“He absolutely refused to let me see her.” Sadie shook her head. “He was cruel from the start. Mentioned somethin’ about the foolishness of women. He had that… that whole demeanor, you know? Like talkin’ to an O’Driscoll. Had to see for myself. That… that snake had her shackled, Arthur-” her voice turned heated.

He silenced her with his lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around him and responded in a fury. Her lips were desperate, pleading against his. He was happy to oblige - but broke it off when the train teller started clearing his throat. Arthur ignored him.

“You done what we were all afraid to do,” he said softly. He brushed aside a strand of her hair. “You’re amazing, Sadie.”

She flushed, her lips curling into a pleased smile. “You ain’t so bad yourself, cowboy. Let’s go home, shall we?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's two chapters because I meant to post one sooner. :')


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🚨🔥 Spicy Warning 🔥🚨

_Sadie_

Despite the joy she felt at seeing Arthur again, she couldn’t help but feel anger, too. 

When he had kissed her at Cairn Lake - she had allowed him into her life. She had allowed him into her heart - and that she loved him. Plain and simple. It had been a whirlwind of emotions, and when Arthur said he was leaving that very day they kissed… Sadie couldn’t help but feel confused about what she felt.

As the winter months passed, the more she missed Arthur. The emptiness she had felt ever since Jake had died had been replaced by Arthur and she couldn’t wait to meet up with him again. She devoured each of Arthur’s letters, counting down the days until she met up with him. She had allowed herself to hope and knew this was right. 

Now that she saw him in person, she was surprised at her anger. She became quiet as they traveled into the night, putting distance in between them and Emerald Ranch. Arthur seemed to pick up on her mood and barely said a word as they traveled. 

“Best set up camp here,” Arthur said, choosing a spot under a grove of trees. 

Sadie hopped off her horse and grabbed her pack. She couldn’t make eye contact with him. What was up with her? 

“Sadie-”

“I’ll get the tent set up,” she huffed. She tried to form the words in her head, to defend her anger, to talk to the man she had missed so much. The words wouldn’t come.

She felt Arthur’s eyes on her as she moved around, questions in his eyes. She had waited for this moment. He had, too. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

As she moved around the camp, creating chores for herself by organizing their packs, gathering firewood, digging through her pack, Arthur stopped her as she passed by him. He held her arm, his eyes reflecting the firelight.

“Talk to me,” he said in a hushed voice. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I can’t-” Sadie started to shrug out of his grip. 

“Sadie,” he pleaded. 

She shook her head, her eyes blurry from her angry tears. She bit her lip, convincing herself to stop. It wasn’t worth it. He was back, it was over-

“I messed up,” he began and let go of her arm. “I shouldn’t have left. I didn’t want to bring you down with me. I ain’t… I ain’t worth the hassle.”

“That’s my choice to make, isn’t it?” Sadie said. She walked a few steps away and hugged her arms to herself. “I offered you my home, and you still left.”

“I know.”

“You left _me_ ,” Sadie ground out. Angry tears coursed down her face. 

Arthur crossed over to her and tenderly grabbed her hand. He pulled her towards him. She still couldn’t make eye contact. “I ain’t gonna leave again, Sadie. I’m here. My life - my being an outlaw, it’s over. My time at Emerald Ranch…” Arthur’s grip tightened on hers. “I ain’t ever been so lonely. The time I spent with you, it’s like I can breathe again. Every single day I couldn’t help but think of you and what a fool I was for leavin’ you. I know this is where I’m meant to be, now. If you’d have me.” He wiped away a tear falling down her face. 

The anger in Sadie’s chest loosened and she swallowed as she took his other hand in hers. “I’d want no one else,” she said, staring at his hands, calloused from years of hard work. They eclipsed hers in size. 

He leaned down and kissed her. Tears pricked her eyes as she pressed her lips against his. Slow, aggravatingly slow, as they explored each other’s mouth, hesitance yet a deep _wanting_ passing through her. 

This is what she wanted. As she pressed a hand against Arthur’s chest, clenching his shirt and pulling him closer so he pressed against her, it was clear he wanted it, too. A low moan escaped her lips as he broke his stream of kisses, trailing his lips down her chin to her neck. She felt his hands roaming her back, light fingers trailing the leather of her belt and pulling out her tucked in shirt. She opened her eyes to find his shirt collar, his grizzled face ticking her neck, her heart thumping. She undid the top one, then the next, until his chest hair peeked through on his broad, chiseled chest. 

Arthur’s hands stopped when they found their way under her shirt, his warm fingers pressed against her hip. He looked at her, his eyes burning and dark in the blackness of the night, and said in a low, husky tone, “You sure?”

“We waited long enough, Arthur,” she replied with a sly curtness. She didn’t care it was in the middle of nowhere, deep in the forest - privacy wouldn’t be a problem. 

He trailed a finger down the side of her face and said, “I love you, Sadie Adler, through and through.”

She paused, taking in the sight of the man waiting for her response. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “And I love you,” she said with a tenderness. They may not have met under ideal situations - but he had been a solid support ever since then. There was a kindness, an understanding between the two of them. He was tired of running - and she was ready to welcome him with open arms. 

She let out a gasp as he whisked her up in his arms and held on tight as he walked her over to their tiny tent. One lantern shrouded the tent in a dim light.

“This isn’t the best place, but…” Arthur set her down on the blankets and leaned over her. He kissed her lips, then her neck. One hand rested on her belt. “I been dreamin’ of this ever since I left. I shouldn’t have even left, I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizin’,” Sadie said. “You here now. That’s what matters. And I don’t care we ain’t in some grand hotel-”

“We could make a side tour,” Arthur murmured in between light kisses. “After tonight, of course.” His hands went to work at unclasping the belt. 

“We can talk about that later,” Sadie growled. It had been a terrible idea to wear pants.

“That we shall,” was all Arthur replied. He leaned back up, drawled a smile, a spark reflecting in his eyes, and slowly shrugged off his jacket, then his shirt. Sadie bit her lip as they held eye contact. His muscles were tight, burly, and she longed to caress them. 

This was different. This wasn’t Jake. This wasn’t the O’Driscoll men - she wouldn’t think of them, of the love and horrors in her history. No. She trusted Arthur. 

She began unbuttoning the front of her shirt and Arthur seemed to watch her as if entranced. At the last button, he slowly moved to straddle her and leaned in close, pressing a kiss to her lips, to her cheek, while his hands pushed aside the fabric. He let out a breath once her breasts were free from her shirt.

He grasped a breast with his hand before lowering his head. Sadie shivered as a finger trailed around the nipple, then slowly replaced with his tongue. Her back curved as he fondled the other breast with his finger, her hands in his hair as he went ever so slowly. 

It had been too long. She let out a whimper as his teeth brushed against her nipple, the sensation coursing through her. More, she wanted more - 

Together they worked her pants down her legs and tossed the pants to the side. Arthur sat back, one hand on her thigh as he gazed her over. “You’re beautiful,” he said. 

Sadie blushed and reached for the top of his pants, his bulge pressed hard against the fabric. 

“Not yet,” he grinned, catching her hand and kissing the back of it. He then lowered his lips to her knee. He kissed the skin down her thigh and she reached over, pressing her fingers into his shoulder and his hair. The hair of his beard tickled as he neared her core, yet when his lips and tongue finally met her folds, she let out a sharp cry.

_Goddammit, this cowboy really_ \- Sadie squirmed as his tongue flicked against her clit in soft strokes, his hands grasping her legs. He held her firmly as he worked, her nails scraping into his skin. “Dammit, Arthur,” she gasped in between breaths, “You-”

He only pressed harder. Sadie let out a cry, the waves of pleasure rushing through her, but not yet at her peak - only then Arthur broke away and undid the top of his pants, revealing the long length of him. _Damn. He was… impressive._ Sadie’s breath caught in her throat. 

“Arthur,” she said, and he was on top of her once more, his fingers trailing her entrance for a second before entering her with one, slowly moving in and out. It was only for a few seconds until he pressed her legs aside and looked at her for confirmation. At her nod, he grasped his length and slowly, painstakingly slow, entered her. 

It was his turn to let out a low groan. He shifted his hips, then again, until they were moving together as one. Arthur found her hand and held on tight to it. Sweat glistened in the lantern light as he thrust, low groans escaping his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he cursed as he sped the pace. He had already pushed her to her limits - she couldn’t last much longer. At one, long, powerful thrust, the pleasure burst. She cried out, arcing against him, her hands grasping the folds of the blankets. 

“Sadie,” Arthur moaned. He thrust once, twice, then let out a small huff as he collapsed over her. His back shivered as he rested his forehead on her shoulder. Together they lay still, catching their breath. Arthur untangled himself from her and lay next to her, a hand on her stomach. He leaned up on his elbow and stared down at her, a smile on his face. “God, that was…”

Sadie bit her lip as the pleasure still lingered in her core. She turned to him and pressed a kiss to his chin. “You sure know how to please a lady.”

“Was that-”

“It was more than okay. It was wonderful.” Sadie pushed him to his back and settled in the crevice of his arm. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

_Arthur_

The breeze blowing through the trees, the birds chirping, and the smell of mountain air seemed like a blessing to Arthur. Snow lingered here and there in patches, with hints of green and yellows peeking through the ground. It felt familiar, like returning to a home. A real one - not a makeshift tent on some forgotten, hidden part of land, with no sense of privacy except the blanket of the night. For the first time in many years, Arthur had a place to call _home._

“Colter has grown, as you can see,” Sadie said, a tone of disdain in her voice. She sat on her horse Bob, side by side with Arthur as they strolled along. “Me and Abigail have made friends with Mrs. Berry - Anna. A little out of her league, moving out here, but don’t tell her I said that. She has two young kids, Elizabeth and Cleo.” 

Arthur still couldn’t help but smile at her. Ever since they shared a night together a few days ago - it was hard to believe Sadie had chosen him. Welcomed him. Loved him. It was everything he had been searching for. 

“George was tellin’ me he’d get them here as soon as he could,” Arthur mused, breaking his gaze from Sadie. He would think of their stolen kisses, her breasts, the warm folds of her another time. They were almost home. 

He eyed the brand new buildings lining the streets of Colter. He had helped finish the post office, the general store, and George Berry’s house. It had only been the bare bones then. Colter seemed to be in the middle of building a church and several new houses at this point. “Berry is made of money, huh?”

“Seems like it. Been tryin’ to grow this town faster than I would’ve wanted it to. One day I’m afraid there’s gonna be a railroad and then this is gonna be like any other town.” 

“You still ain’t happy with it.”

Sadie glanced at him with a frown. “No. It’s gonna be awhile, yet.”

“They start workin’ in the gold mine, yet?”

“I think so. Anna said Mr. Berry was hopeful.” 

They continued on through Colter and followed the path. Arthur couldn’t deny he felt a little bit of worry talking to John. John, the one who was usually hot tempered and ill mannered, had proved to be right. Arthur hadn’t needed to run. 

Jack was the first to greet them as they rode up the path to Adler ranch. He held a book in his hands, his feet bare and dirty from the muddy road. He came running, the biggest smile on his face. “Uncle Arthur! You’re back!” 

“Hey, Jack,” Arthur grinned and hopped off his horse. He scooped up the kid in a tight hug. “Sheesh. Lookit you! You got bigger!”

“So did you!” Jack responded. 

Arthur let out a laugh and set the boy down. 

“Jack!” Abigail chided from the doorway to the house. Despite a larger, rounded belly, Abigail had a smile and pleased look on her face. “You don’t say that to a grown up!”

“Pa says it to you all the time,” Jack retorted. 

“I’m _pregnant_ and I won’t be like this for long. You got chores to finish, mister. Get.” Abigail waved off her son as she approached Arthur. Jack took off towards the barn. 

“Abigail,” Arthur greeted her. He grasped her into a hug. “I see I made it in time. You practically glowing.” 

“We’ve been happy,” Abigail confirmed. “And countin’ the days until you returned. John will be back by dinner. You two have good travels?” She lifted a knowing eyebrow, her eyes flicking to Sadie. 

“We did.” Arthur turned to grab their bags from the saddles and followed the two women into the house. Without looking at Abigail, knowing she’d be smirking at him, he followed Sadie into her room and set the bags down. Her room was small, with the one bed, nightstand, and dresser. Arthur had rarely gone into her room when he had lived there prior and now it was his, too. 

“Better than the loft,” Sadie said, opening her bag. She paused, focusing on the photo on the nightstand. Her wedding photo with Jake.

“You don’t have to remove it,” Arthur said softly. 

“No… I do, though.” Sadie brushed back her hair as she walked around the corner of the bed to the nightstand. She picked up the photo and pressed it to her chest. “I know he’d be happy I was safe and taken care of, Arthur. But he ain’t here, and I don’t want you followin’ his ghost around.” She moved to the end of the bed and opened the wooden chest. She pressed the photo in between blankets. “We gotta focus on us, now.”

Arthur pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I know it’s hard for you, Sadie, but… thank you. Let’s go put the horses away, shall we?”

* * *

As evening crept, dinner was prepped and the stars twinkled in the clear night sky. Smells of bread, potatoes, and salted venison drifted in the air. Arthur waited patiently outside the home, waiting for John to appear. He and John had exchanged a few letters, but there hadn’t been many over the past six months. He knew John had been focusing on the farm and even helping out with Colter every now and then. 

He spotted John down the path and waved a hand in greeting, walking toward the barn where John stopped, lantern in hand. John’s black hair was in dire need of a cut, with his usual scruff replaced with a full blown beard. The beard made him look older, more refined. The scars, however, were still visible along his face. 

“So you’re back,” John said with a huff. He focused on undoing the saddle from his horse. “Glad to see Sadie managed that.”

“I was gonna come back even if she didn’t show,” Arthur said. John was angry with him. That was expected. “I’m back now and I mean to stay.”

“Good. We could use your help, with the baby comin’ soon and all.” John lifted the saddle off the horse and set it aside. 

Arthur grabbed a brush and stepped up to the horse. He focused on brushing while John undid the head piece. “How’s it been?”

John tossed the head piece aside and motioned for Arthur to follow him out the barn. Arthur dropped the brush, gave the horse a few pats, then followed him. They stopped just outside the barn and turned to face each other. In the lantern light, Arthur could see the frown on John’s face. 

“It’s been a learning experience, to be sure. Learned a whole lot about cows this past year,” John said.

“Same, actually.”

“That ranch better than this one?” John asked.

“No. Didn’t leave friends behind there.”

“Well, you sure did here.” Anger dripped from John’s words. “And now you back. When you gonna leave again, Arthur? I hope you realize Sadie ain’t gonna wait around you forever.”

“We made up,” Arthur defended himself. “And I am back, I swear it. You were right. I ain’t Dutch and I need to stop runnin’ from this.”

John looked away. “Never thought I’d be the one schoolin’ you, Arthur.”

“I ain’t perfect. I have my flaws. But I’m gonna face them this time. I am serious, too, about Sadie. I won’t leave her alone again. I mean it, John.” Arthur stared down at the shorter man. He wasn’t lying. This was where he belonged. 

“I believe you,” John said with a nod. “I missed you, Arthur. Everyone did.” He reached over and clasped Arthur’s shoulder. He gave a squeeze and let go. 

Memories of their one night together, full of lust, desire and loneliness passed through Arthur. Had it been the right time, had they met differently, had the world not worked against them - it may have worked between them. They both hadn’t been ready for each other and had to move on. They had to grow up. Arthur gave John a smile, put his hands in his pockets, and walked toward the house. It was an unspoken bond between them. If anything, they were brothers, and Arthur had missed him something fierce. 

“Missed ya too, John. Ranch life suits you, if I must say.”

“You think so? Abigail was sayin’ the same thing the other day…” John trailed off. “Once the baby comes, that house is gonna seem kinda small. I been thinkin’ we need our own place, but…”

“No money,” Arthur finished. The words were dry in his mouth. “We can’t escape that fact, can we?”

John scratched his beard. “Seems like it.” 

It was always about the money. 

“There you boys are,” Abigail said. She sat at the dinner table, a plate full of food in front of her. Sadie bustled around the kitchen, dishing up plates and setting out drinks. “Since we back together again, thought a large dinner was called for.”

John pressed a kiss to Abigail’s forehead and sat down next to her. “Looks good.”

“Course it does. Sadie did all the work.” Abigail grinned. “Wouldn’t let me help.”

“You look dead on your feet, Abigail,” Sadie replied. “Baby been botherin’ you?”

“I am quite ready to be done with it, to be sure,” Abigail said, patting her stomach. “Ain’t got a month or so left.”

Arthur sat down at the table and grabbed a plate of steaming bread. He tore apart a section and set it on his plate. “When’s the wedding?” 

“Don’t know. Whenever we get a priest up here, I guess,” John said. “Too bad Swanson isn’t around.”

“If he still is,” Arthur said gruffly. “I’ll write to Pearson, see if he has any news about Swanson. He has a morphine addiction,” he explained for Sadie. “And a drinking problem. Constantly fell off the deep end. I dunno who would have kept an eye on him.”

“Hard to say,” Abigail murmured. 

Sadie sat down at the table and they settled into comfortable silence, eating the warm meal. Arthur kept stealing glances at Sadie, noticing how at ease she seemed to be. Her shoulders were looser, her eyes sparkling with each smile. Despite what she was saying about Colter, she was happy to be home.

Life might become routine, Arthur knew, but he was okay with it. Any day with Sadie, John, and Abigail - he wouldn’t run again. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. 


	26. Chapter 26

_ Sadie _

Days later, Sadie woke up in the warmth of Arthur’s arms. She licked her lips and blinked a few times before nuzzling in closer, pressing her face against his warm chest. He stirred as she ran a hand down his chest, feeling the hair under her fingers. Everything about him - his smile, his kindness, his chest hair - she loved it all. Every day it didn’t feel real.

“Today’s the day,” she said into his ear. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Arthur opened his eyes to a slit, a wry smile on his bearded face. “We got some time. Not even the birds are awake yet.”

“Got some chores to do before we run into town,” Sadie shrugged, leaning her chin on her arm. 

“I think-” Arthur shot up with such speed that Sadie let out a squeal. She found herself pinned on her back as Arthur straddled her, pinning her hands on either side of her head. “I think we got time.”

The blanket slipped in the movement, revealing one perky breast. Arthur eyed it with a hungry look. 

“You naughty-” Sadie began, her words cut off as Arthur leaned down and tickled her nipple with his tongue. She stirred underneath him, the yearning already moving to her core. She hadn’t expected this side from the usually reserved Arthur, but - she loved every moment of it. 

The morning passed by in a blur as Arthur had his way with her, and her with him. She pressed her hands against his chest as she rode him, gasping as the length of him buried deep inside her over and over again. Arthur held her hips and let out tiny grunts as she moved. 

“Shit,” he cursed and tensed beneath her, his fingers digging into her skin. He let out a long groan as he climaxed, and Sadie faded along with him in bliss.

She leaned over, gasping for breath as the pleasure shifted through her. She let out a soft chuckle, shifted off of him and let out a shaky breath. 

“Now let’s get cleaned up,” Arthur said in a cheerful voice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood up from the bed, and walked over to wear his pants lay draped over the chair. 

“I think I’ll admire the view,” Sadie said, moving an arm behind her head as she admired the firm buttocks of a certain outlaw. She grinned. 

Arthur shot her a look and laughed. 

Chores went by fast. Sadie and Arthur went around the ranch and collected eggs and fed animals. Sadie explained all the new names of the animals that Jack named and they made simple conversation while the others in the house got ready. When they returned, they found Jack dressed in a clean suit, along with John who struggled with his tie.

“I’ll go check on Abigail,” Sadie said, leaving the men alone. She knocked softly on the door and went in at Abigail’s soft call. “Abigail, you’re beautiful,” she said once she caught sight of her. 

“You think so?” Abigail touched her hair and blushed. Her gown was an ivory white, simple in style and cut, but beautiful against Abigail’s tanned skin. Eight months pregnant and yet she was extravagant. “You don’t think we should have waited until the baby was born?”

“Nah. We don’t get many priests up our way. The men are ready to leave, and we will follow in a few.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” Abigail gushed. “If only the others were here. Tilly, Abigail, Karen…”

Sadie patted her arm. “They’d be happy for you. You deserve this, Abigail. Let’s head to town, shall we?”

After a few more moments, they gathered what they needed and went for the wagon, John and Jack having already left. Arthur escorted them to Colter, a happy smile on his face. He flicked the reins and commented, “You mighty fine, Abigail. John’s a lucky man.”

“I’m so happy you’re able to be there,” Abigail said. “I really am.”

“Me too, Abigail.”

As they neared the church in Colter, they escorted Abigail to the back of the church where she would wait until the ceremony began. Sadie and Arthur met John up front, where he paced anxiously back and forth.

“Never thought I’d be gettin’ married in a church,” John muttered, tugging at the tie around his neck. He was dressed in a dark suit, with his shirt buttoned to his neck and a red tie completing the look. Despite his complaint, Sadie saw past his grumpiness. The man had sweat on his forehead and his jaw was clenched. He was plain nervous. 

“You ever step in one before?” Arthur inquired, nearly looking as regal as John, dressed in slick black pants, black shirt with a dark blue striped vest. He had slicked back his hair with pomade and his beard was trimmed short. 

Sadie couldn’t wait to tear it off him later. She blushed at the thought.  _ Calm down, Sadie, _ she told herself. 

John focused on his cufflinks. “Ain’t one for robbin’ a church.”

“Wasn’t meanin’ for robbing,” Arthur chuckled. “Meanin’ if you stepped in for religious reasons.” 

“Oh. No.” John wrinkled his nose. “It’s too bad we couldn’t find Swanson.”

Pearson had written back to them a day ago. He hadn’t known where to find Swanson - which wasn’t good. Yet they couldn’t go on a wild goose chase after him. Everyone had made their own choices after Blackwater, Arthur had said, though Sadie could see he was torn up about not helping his fellow outlaw. 

The priest from Strawberry had visited Colter to deliver supplies such as bibles and old furniture for the new church being built. Arthur had caught wind of this and commandeered the priest for marrying John and Abigail on a whim. A day later, they stood outside the half built church with the priest waiting inside. Sunlight streamed through the holes in the roof and only several different sized chairs sat in the church. 

George and Anna Berry sat on two of the chairs, as well as Theodore, the only other guests in attendance. 

“I best go check on the bride,” Sadie said. She patted her skirts as she looked to the outhouse where Abigail had escaped to. Nerves had followed Abigail all day. “You boys get ready.” She gave a bright smile to Arthur and John and left for the back of the church. 

Abigail stood nearby, a bundle of wildflowers in one hand. She fiddled with the veil on her head. 

“Here, let me,” Sadie said, reaching up and setting the veil straight on her head, careful not to mess up the pinned curls in her hair. 

Abigail grinned at her, her freckled face gleaming, her cheeks flushed. “Never thought this would happen,” she said, her voice bubbly with nervousness. “You know John - he ain’t ever was the settlin’ down type.”

“He had to grow up sometime,” Sadie said. “And it’s plain to see he loves you. Now - they’re ready. How about you?”

“Oh, I waited years for this,” Abigail said. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The ceremony went by fast. Arthur escorted Abigail down the aisle, arm in arm, smiles beaming wide and true. It was simplistic in nature, with no vows being said, only the words of the priest. Sadie held Arthur’s hand as the priest said his speech, a smile on her face as she watched the bride and groom. John stood stoic, his face stiff. Abigail shifted on her feet every now and then, her feet and ankles slightly swollen from the pregnancy. The wagon ride from the ranch to Colter hadn’t been very long, but had been tedious for Abigail. 

Relief was plain on Abigail’s face as the priest declared them husband and wife. Relief, but full of love. John finally managed a grin and affirmed their marriage with a soft and tender kiss. 

Jack had never smiled so wide before, Sadie thought. The boy followed his parents out of the church, absolutely shining.

The small crowd made their way through the street of Colter to the Berry residence, where desserts and refreshments awaited them. Once inside and drinks passed around, Sadie raised her glass as they toasted the newlywed couple. Abigail sat on a plush couch, her feet propped up on a stool. John and Arthur stood next to the couch, beers in hand. Soft music played in the background, the music mixed in with the sounds of the Berry’s children playing and screaming. Jack followed the other children around, shy and quiet as he did so.

“Jack will be just fine with us,” Anna said, taking a sip of her tea. She sat opposite of Abigail. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, and- thank you,” Abigail said, her eyebrows furrowed. “I ain’t ever been away from him since he was born.” 

“It’s only two days,” Sadie said. “You and John need some time to yourselves. Arthur and I will be makin’ a trip to Strawberry in the meantime.” 

Abigail took a bite of her cake. “Oh, I guess you’re right. I’m so tired these days, I’ll just be sleeping.” A light blush settled on her cheeks. 

Sadie lightly snorted. Despite what Abigail claimed, pregnancy hadn’t stopped Abigail and John from each other. The walls were thin enough - nothing was private. Which meant Abigail and John were privy to her and Arthur’s midnight rendezvous. 

Maybe a second home  _ wasn’t  _ such a bad idea after all. 

The party ended with a send off with John and Abigail as they took the wagon back to Adler ranch, the sunlight cresting the top of the mountains. Sadie and Arthur said their goodbyes, then went to find their horses hitched at the fence outside the Berry home. 

“Where to tonight?” Arthur asked, stepping on the stirrup and settling on his horse. He grabbed his hat from the horn of the horse and put it on. 

“I think…” Sadie said, hopping up on her own horse. There was a small chill in the air as the spring sun fell behind the mountains. “We’re overdue for a visit to Cairn lake. What do you say?” 

“Oh, it’s a bit chilly,” Arthur said and clicked his tongue, encouraging Athena to start walking. He looked back at Sadie with a grin. “But I can think of ways to warm you up.” 

* * *

As the birds started chirping, the early morning light glittering in the small lake, Sadie crept out from the warm blanket she shared with Arthur. She kissed him softly on the forehead as he snored softly, his features soft and content as he slept. She grabbed one of Arthur’s old shirts and tugged it on, then crept out of the tent, her feet bare against the grass. Despite it being cold, it was refreshing to be outside where time seemed to stand still. 

She took her time building the fire from last night, making herself a cup of coffee, a low hum in her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so happy - ever since she had been with Jake. Coffee in hand, she settled on a small fallen log, staring at the lake, watching the birds fly around and dance in the shallow pools of the water. 

Arthur found her when she was lost in her thoughts. He wrapped his arms around her and pushed a sleepy kiss to her brow. “‘Mornin,” he said. He sat next to her, a cup of coffee already in his hands. 

They hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. A wild, crazy dip in the water, followed by entanglements in the blankets… Sadie smiled to herself. “Good morning. How ya feelin’?”

“Like I don’t wanna go to Strawberry.” Arthur smirked at her. “We got this lake to ourselves and two days to make ourselves sparse…”

Sadie chuckled. “Much as I’d like to, cowboy, there’s somethin’ I need to pick up in Strawberry.”

“And that is?”

Sadie lifted her eyebrows as she looked away and pursed her lips. “Well… we ain’t talked about it. But, uh… if we are gonna continue with… well, you know, then I need to get some herbs and the like. To prevent pregnancy. I ain’t been properly prepared this last month. It’s a small chance, for me, but…” Sadie let out a sigh, thinking of the tiny cross next to Jake’s grave. “It’s a possibility.” 

“Ah.” Arthur took a sip of his coffee. “I understand.”

They hadn’t talked about children, much less about getting married. Sadie knew one usually came with the other, but… she wanted to take this at Arthur’s pace. She was fine with waiting. She had been married once already. Arthur was first and foremost her best friend and partner. That was most important to her right then. All the other stuff could come later.

Arthur nodded. “We’ll go to Strawberry, then. You gonna start our garden when you get back?”

“I think the last frost is behind us, so yes. Abigail won’t be able to help as much, with the baby and all, so I have my work cut out for me.” 

“We’ll be busy, but it’ll be a good year. Colter’s ready for more families, and…” Arthur scratched the back of his head. “And Dutch is probably rollin’ in his grave. We done what he was so against. Society, and all that. I suppose it’s a feeling I won’t be able to get over any time soon.”

Sadie reached over and grabbed his hand with hers. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Now, why don’t you say we go for a mornin’ dip and get goin’?” 

* * *

_ Where was he?  _ Sadie leaned back in her chair, peering over the crowd in the saloon. They had only arrived in Strawberry a few hours ago - Arthur and Sadie had agreed to part ways and meet for dinner at the saloon. Arthur had wanted to surprise her with something and hadn’t said what. It was past six thirty now. Arthur wouldn’t have made her wait so long without telling her. 

She downed the last of her beer and stood up, the chair scraping behind her. She had to go look for him. The saloon doors squeaked as they opened and her smile froze on her face as she saw Arthur walk through the doors, face grave and pale. 

He smiled when he saw her, though the light didn’t meet his eyes. With her nerves dancing, Sadie sat back down. “Thought I was gonna have to send a rescue party after you,” she said.

“Sorry,” Arthur shrugged and sat down across from her. Sadie gave him a glance over. No blood or anything amiss. “Got caught up at the stables. I was askin’ a few pointers of running the business.”

“You mentioned that before. You think it’s a good idea?”

“Colter needs a stable eventually, if it’s gonna become a town. I think it’s a good idea and George already has an idea of where to build it, we just need to clear a few trees.” Arthur waved over the bartender and put in a quick order for food. Once the bartender left, he asked Sadie, “How was your visit around town?”

Sadie still felt a little suspicious, but she let it slide. Arthur seemed more himself now. He would tell her if anything was wrong. “Got my supplies just fine. We can leave early in the mornin’. Don’t wanna risk bein’ gone for too long with the baby nearly here.”

“I’m happy for them,” Arthur said with a softness. He averted his gaze from Sadie and looked towards the piano player in the corner. He took a sip of his beer. 

“You okay?” she finally asked.

“‘Course.” Arthur gave her a smile. He made no mention of the surprise. 

Sadie couldn’t put her finger on it. Something had spooked Arthur and he wasn’t being straight with her. Even as they continued back to Adler ranch, he refused to say anything was the matter. Yet something clearly was and it irked Sadie to the high heavens. He hadn’t withdrawn from her, per say. He held her. He kissed her. Hell, the last few days he was passionate and caring with her. Only… he wouldn’t admit anything to her, he wouldn’t talk about what was bothering him. He’d have this grave, desperate look on his face as he stared at John and Abigail, at Jack - and quickly recovered when he caught Sadie watching him.

A few nights after they returned to Adler ranch, a night full of desperate passion, he finally held her close, and whispered, “I love you, Sadie Adler.” 

Sadie fell asleep in his arms and woke up alone. She blinked sleepily, listening for Arthur’s soft snoring, yet it was silent. She reached over and felt his side of the bed and found the fabric cold to the touch. A wave of fear washed through her as she sat up, looking around their bedroom. His jacket, which he had slung over the one chair in the room, was gone, as were his leather bag and satchel. 

It took her mere moments to fling on a shirt and skirts. Her bare feet pounded on the wood flooring as she stomped about the house, looking for him. She charged out of the house to the stables, her feet slipping in the mud. It had rained last night. Water dripped from the stables as she opened the door and looked for his horse.

Athena was gone. 

Her breath caught in her throat, she made her way back inside, her eyes searching desperately in the dim morning light for anything left behind. She went back into the bedroom and paused, her heart sinking as she noticed a bright white envelope sitting on her nightstand. Dread filled her as she opened it, her name scrawled in Arthur’s handwriting on the outside. 

“No,” she breathed. Tears sprung in her eyes and she blinked them away. 

_ I can’t,  _ Arthur had written.  _ I’m sorry.  _

“Sadie, I heard runnin’-” John’s husky voice came from outside her room. He knocked on the door and peeked his head through. “You okay?” 

She nodded firmly. But she wasn’t. She really, really wasn’t. She handed John the letter. 

“Shit,” he cursed, the paper crinkling in his fist. “Goddammit, Arthur, what trouble have you gotten into?”

“He was spooked,” Sadie said and sniffed. She wiped her eyes angrily. “Somethin’ in Strawberry, but he kept sayin’ he was fine and nothin’ happened.”

“Well, somethin’ did,” John growled. “And, classic Arthur, thought he could solve it himself. Shit. Well.” John ran a hand down his face and looked towards the bedroom he shared with Abigail, deep in thought. “I gotta get her to Mrs. Berry’s house. She can’t stay here, not with the baby almost here. We’ll hire Theodore or someone to feed the animals while we’re away. Shit.” He shook his head and peered back at Sadie. “He gave you his word, Sadie. He got in trouble. We just gotta track him down. Get our horse’s ready and I’ll work on gettin’ Abigail packed and out of here.”

She felt cold with fear, with anger. No, it wasn’t anger, just… Sadie didn’t know. Whatever Arthur had run into in Strawberry was enough to leave this life behind. Whether it be the law, or something else, it had been enough. “Where to first?” 

“We ask around Colter, then Strawberry. Then Valentine. Then…” John let out a huff. “That fool. We’ll see how long we can follow the tracks for.” He left her room then to rouse Abigail and Jack, shutting the door behind him.

Sadie walked over to the water pitcher on her dresser and poured out a small amount into the basin. The cold water did little to help her as she splashed it on her face. She felt near sick to her stomach as she finished dressing and pulled out her rifles from the closet. She hadn’t needed them in a long time and had figured it had been time to put them away for good. That wasn’t the case. 

Whatever danger Arthur had himself in… Hopefully they wouldn’t be too late. 


	27. Chapter 27

_ Arthur _

The horn of the train chimed several times as it left Valentine, the black smoke plaguing the air. Arthur sank lower in his wooden chair, his hand in his pocket, the gold ring burning against his skin. He twisted it around, his mouth dry and his vision blurry as he tuned out the loud train horns. He took a long drag of his cigarette.

“We’ll be in St. Denis in a few days,” Vera said smoothly beside him, a book on her lap. She opened it and flipped several pages. Dressed in a black skirt, jacket, and red tie that matched her lips, she looked every bit as a wealthy traveling woman. An elegant feathered hat sat on her head. “I suggest you get some sleep. You’re going to need your rest.”

Arthur didn’t bother glancing at her. He rested his head against the glass and kept twisting the ring in his pocket. 

He wished he hadn’t ran into her in Strawberry. He hadn’t even given Vera any thought the last few months. She hadn’t wanted to stick around with him and had refused to even look him in the eye last time he saw her. He had been fine with that. They had been business partners, no more. When he saw her in Strawberry, it was different.

He had been browsing the rings in the general store where John had bought his. Now that Arthur and Sadie were a couple, it was only proper to marry her. It seemed like the proper path to pursue. Arthur had never felt more sure knowing he was meant to be with her. It had been his plan to propose that night, even.

Ruined from the very moment he laid eyes on Vera. 

\--- A few days ago ---

“Pretty ring,” Vera said as he exited the store, ring bought and put away in his satchel. 

“Vera,” Arthur said, startled. The town was shrouded in the evening sun, though she sat in the shadow of the building. He tilted his head as he regarded her. She sat on the hitching post, dangling her legs over the side. Heavy bags had settled under her eyes and her clothing looked a little rougher than usual. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I require your help,” she replied. Her black hair had been cut short, the ends curling around her jawline. 

“Not in the bounty hunter business no more,” Arthur said and turned away. “Sorry-”

“No. Not a bounty hunter job. Outlaw.” 

Arthur paused. “I ain’t one of those, either. ‘Fraid you’re gonna have to ask someone else.”

“I need  _ you _ .”

“No. Excuse me, I have to meet with someone.”

“What would you like me to tell Tilly, or Mary-Beth, when I see them next?” Vera’s voice darkened. 

“What are you…” Arthur looked around for eavesdroppers, then went to her. He wasn’t eager to talk about this around people. 

Vera hopped off the fence and linked her arms with his, dragging him across the bridge of Strawberry and up the road where nobody lingered. “They’re lovely folk. Doing well, too. You write them much?”

Arthur had. Several times over the past few months, ever since Hosea had given him the addresses and locations. “What’s it mean to you?”

“I have a reputation in St. Denis. A good one. You haven’t heard of him, but the chief police officer is named Wilhem. He and I are...  _ close _ , you could say, and we have a deal. He’ll turn a blind eye to what I may do - and he’ll arrest those of the names I provide him.”

The blood rushed from Arthur’s face. “You wouldn’t dare-”

Vera halted and glared up at him. “I would. Wilhem knows if I don’t report to him in a week’s time, he’ll arrest them anyways, on accounts of thievery. Did you know Miss Tilly is engaged? She’s to live in that grand house right in St. Denis?”

“You seem to know an awful lot about them,” Arthur growled. He could only guess she intercepted his letters he had written to Tilly and Mary-Beth. 

“Ever since I learned who you were, I learned everything about you,” Vera hissed. “Everything. I kept tabs on you, had to, even, to make sure you wouldn’t go back on your word. You sure made fine work of Emerald Ranch, though. Kinda made a mess.”

Arthur clenched his fists and took a step closer to her. He didn’t like being threatened. “You threaten me, my friends - I’m an outlaw, as you say,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I could do away with you right now, and no one would be the wiser.”

“Don’t forget Wilhem. You can’t harm me, remember?”

This was true. Arthur’s jaw tensed as he gritted his teeth. “Why are you resortin’ to me, then? What’s the job?”

Vera looked around once more, grabbed his arm, and dragged him along again. “My brother’s killer. I need you to kidnap him and bring him to me. He isn’t one for leaving the city much, and I got a reputation to uphold.”

“So I’m to do your dirty work.”

“Exactly. That’s all. Then you can come home to your perfect life you have with Mrs. Adler,” Vera sneered. 

“Where is this to take place?” 

“St. Denis. Meet me at Valentine in two weeks. From there, we shall travel on to St. Denis. I’ll write to Wilhem and tell him to hold off arresting your outlaw  _ friends _ .”

“And this man you want me to kidnap?” 

“I’ll explain where he is once we’re in St. Denis. City is different - law is tighter, meaner. I trust you to keep your wits about you and no, I don’t want you to tell your outlaw friend or Mrs. Adler. If you do, if you bring backup-” Vera licked her lips and pointed a finger at his chest. “The deal is off and I’ll make sure Mary-Beth and Tilly hang. I have eyes and ears here, Arthur. This town trusts me more than it does you. So, I expect you to be smart about this.” She stepped away from him and brushed a loose strand behind her ear. “We clear?”

Arthur let out a deep breath and nodded. He couldn’t risk it, not with Tilly or Mary-Beth lives on the line. Night had fallen around them and Vera, with a wink, snuck off into the darkness of the trees. He dug into his satchel and pulled out the simple, golden ring he had only bought thirty minutes ago. 

He had a few things to figure out. He clenched the ring and stored it deep into his satchel. 

\---Present Day---

Arthur had never been to St. Denis, and from the get go, he didn’t like it. The dark, somber clouds lurked over the buildings of St. Denis like a bad thunderstorm. There was a smell of fish and murky waters in the air and endless crowds of people roaming the street. Arthur’s shirt clung to his skin in the humid air, the chilly air of the Ambarino mountains left far behind. Evening had fallen as they made their way off the train and onto the streetcar. 

Arthur’s last act as an outlaw. Hell, he hadn’t thought of returning to this life again. Not with a potential future with Sadie. Even that, too, might no longer exist if the job turned sour. It all depended on how big of a job this was to be, how dangerous. He especially couldn’t bring John or Sadie into this, not when they had a ranch and a family to take care of. 

Emerald Ranch had been an escape, to figure out what he really wanted in life. He couldn’t be a loner, couldn’t be an outlaw. He purely wanted to live a life at Sadie’s side - he had seen and felt such clarity over the past month, he had been irritated that he hadn’t felt it sooner. 

“This hotel,” Vera said, her voice oddly cheery. Arthur followed her into the well established building, more on the posh and elegant side. A hotel for people with money. Inside, it was filled with cigarette smoke and men sitting at poker tables. Arthur waited by the staircase while Vera purchased a room, then followed her up, carrying their two bags in each hand. 

They entered one room with one large bed. “You can set it down here,” Vera said with a wave of her hand. She went over to the whiskey and glass jars, and poured two whiskey shots.

She offered one to Arthur. “I don’t want it,” he said. He went over to the couch and sat down, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Tell me of the job.”

“Right. To business.” Vera’s eyebrow twitched and she settled on the bed. She patted down her skirts. “His name is Hirim Grove. He’s a wealthy banker who hired my brother back then for a job. Job went south and my brother ended up dead. Grove buried the case as if it never happened.”

“You want me to kidnap him, and then what?” Arthur grabbed a cigarette and lit it. A small headache was starting to form. He didn’t want to do this.

“There’s an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. You’re to bring him there where I can ask him some… questions.” 

“And how am I supposed to kidnap a wealthy banker?” 

“He’s unmarried, won’t be missed for a night or so. He lives on the outskirts of St. Denis, where his garden is open to the waters. You take a boat there, and get him when he’s on his midnight stroll. It’ll be easy.”

“Too easy. I don’t like it.” Arthur took a long drag of his cigarette. “I kidnap him, we done, right?”

The smile she gave him wasn’t sincere. “Sure. In a way.”

“So you can’t get your hands dirty, is that right?” Arthur tapped the cigarette, the ashes falling to the tray. “You gonna cover your face to make sure he don’t know who you are?”

“Oh, I won’t need to. However it’ll be  _ you _ askin’ for me if he doesn’t talk.” 

“Come again?”

“I can’t have his blood on my hands,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. “I seen you fight, heard how you knocked Edward out cold back at Emerald Ranch. You can figure out ways to make him talk.”

Arthur stared at his knuckles, rough and calloused. He was familiar with fist fights - too familiar. His short temper had seen to that. “I take it you have a boat?” 

“You’ll steal one from the docks. His house is the one of the larger ones. You can’t miss it.” Vera finished off her whiskey and stood up. “You best leave now. I’ll be at the warehouse in the meantime. Don’t go running to the law. Wilhem will arrest you on the spot.” 

Arthur snuffed out his cigarette, stood, and walked over to the door. The sooner this was over with, the sooner he could return to Ambarino and tell Sadie and John everything. He had run once before - Arthur figured they would think he left for good. He was unsure. Sadie and John wouldn’t follow him, right? They would arrive too late, anyhow, if they did. 

“One more thing,” Vera cooed, stepping close to him, a dark, wicked light in her eyes. She pressed a hand to Arthur’s cheek and kissed him on the lips with a light touch, then attacked with more ferocity.

Anger flicked through Arthur and he shoved her back, his hands gripping her arms. He ignored her flinch. “Let us get one thing straight, Vera,” Arthur spat. “This is it. After this, we’re done, and I never want to see you around me or my friends again. Don’t forget I was an outlaw - and I never harmed innocents. But, to me, this act of yours makes you no better than me. You basically an outlaw yourself - so I won’t hesitate to -- you if you come across my way again.”

“Let go,” Vera demanded, and shrugged out of his grip. “Get going, Morgan. I’ll see you soon.” She reached around him and pulled the door open. She held up a slip of paper with written directions. 

Arthur shoved his way by her, yanking the paper from her hands, and stormed out of the hotel. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand scoffed at the red smear that rubbed away. She wasn’t merely a bounty hunter, he was sure. There was something off about her, too vile and sinister. She wasn’t being clean with him about something, but he didn’t know what. 

Kidnapping. Arthur had only done it a few times, all for just reasons - they were all bad men. He didn’t know if Hirim Grove was a bad man or anything of the sort. All he knew is that he didn’t want to get get caught by the law.

He played it safe. He waited until night fell and snuck onto the ducks, then hopped on a small rowboat. He was off into the dark waters before any took notice of him. Fireflies drifted around certain parts of the swamp and low, rumbling hisses sounded around him as he rowed. Alligators, Vera had explained. Arthur had heard of them, had seen pictures, but this was the first time he would ever see one. He certainly would be avoiding the water.

The directions on the paper instructed him to go to a large, red brick house with a simple water fountain in the backyard. Arthur hitched the boat on the other side of the dock, out of sight of the house. He readied his lasso as he crouched, eyeing the garden and the fountain. The man often took midnight walks, Vera had observed. So Arthur waited.

Stars twinkled in the sky as Arthur kept his eyes focused on the garden. There weren’t any guards, or bystanders, or anything. Perfect.

The glass door to the house creaked open, and a short, bellied man walked out, dressed in a bathrobe and slippers. Arthur knelt behind the dock and hid out of sight, then peeked. The man walked along the shore, his back turned to Arthur. 

A few quiet steps forward, Arthur had his pistol out and knocked the man clean on the head. He crumpled like a pile of rocks. It took only a matter of moments for Arthur to pick up the man and carry him to the boat. It had been a clean it; the man would survive, but would have a nasty headache when he awoke.

The boat ride to the warehouse took forever. Arthur covered the man with a piece of fabric he had found in the boat, in case anyone gave him a lookover. Too many prying eyes in the city and he didn’t know the in and outs of it. It would be difficult to escape, especially since he didn’t have a horse. He had left Athena back in Valentine, safe in the stables.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, the windows boarded up and the fence surrounding it in rotting shambles. Arthur directed the boat to the shore and hopped out once the rocks grounded against the wood. He grabbed the man and shrugged him over his shoulder, and with a last glance around, he went inside the warehouse. 

Vera was there, holding a dimly lit lantern. She waved him inside and shut the wide door behind him. “In that room, there.” She followed Arthur into a small room which had once been an office, with a desk pushed to the side and broken bookshelves lining the walls. “Set him down on this chair.”

Arthur did with a grunt. He set to work binding the man’s hands behind him, then took a few steps back. “This is him?”

“Yes. Thank you, Arthur.”

“I guess this is it-” Arthur began, his words cut off as something heavy smacked into the back of his head. He crumpled to the floor, the room dancing around in his vision. Vera knelt in front of him, pressing a hand against his neck. 

“Goddammit, Silas, what the hell was that for? He was going to finish the job!” Vera yelled.

_ Silas?  _ Arthur rolled to his back, his hands fumbling as he tried to stand. 

“Plans change, Vera,” Silas said, his voice cutting in from Arthur’s memory. “Tie him up.”

“Shit,” Vera muttered. Arthur was too dazed to stop her as she put his wrists together and bounded them tightly with his own rope. 

“Good,” Silas said to her. “Morgan, here, is mine.”

It clicked suddenly. Arthur blinked a few times before settling on Silas, the man who had been obsessed with Eliza. How long had it been since he’d even thought of Silas? It’s been around seven years, at least. The years hadn’t been kind to Silas - he had a thick gut, missing teeth, and a balding head. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air. 

“You thought I’d forgive you for killing Eliza?” Silas asked. 

No. Arthur had not. He hadn’t even sought out Silas once Arthur found out Eliza and Isaac had been killed. Silas hadn’t even been on his mind. It was too late, now, and Silas was out for revenge. 

Arthur let out a breath. Whatever the man had planned, he was in a dire situation. 

“Who the hell is Eliza?” Vera demanded of Silas. “And how do you know Arthur? You never said you knew him personally-”

“Oh, we go way back.” Silas started to pace in the tiny room. “Arthur Morgan of Dutch van der Linde’s gang. His gang robbed the bank in our town, as well as many others. Arthur, here, raped the beautiful Eliza and left her to rot.” 

Arthur cringed. Despite Eliza being up front with Silas about what she and Arthur had consensually agreed to, the man still believed the worst about Arthur. 

Silas continued, “I seen Dutch is dead, but no word of Morgan,” Silas spat. “Ever since I learned that, I been hunting you down, Morgan, now that you don’t have your gang to protect you.”

“I did not rape Eliza,” Arthur said in a steady voice. “It was a one night thing. We had a son, Silas. I cared for him, loved him, just like any father would.”

Silas didn’t like his reply. “You abandoned them. If it hadn’t been for you-” 

“I know, and I regret it every day,” Arthur huffed. He cleared his throat and sat up. The bonds around his wrist were loose. Vera hadn’t done a good job - easy to slip out of them. The stars were starting to fade from his vision, now. The warm trickle of blood at the back of his head hopefully didn’t pose an issue. “How did you meet Vera?” He needed to turn the conversation away from him.

“Happenchance.” Silas went over to the unconscious Hirim and shook the man. “Wake up, you idiot.” The man stirred, and once Silas slapped him across the cheek, the man was fully awake and alert. 

“Where am I?” Hirim demanded, his eyes shooting around the room. He struggled against the bonds. Once he found Vera, he visibly paled. “Veronica Edgefield. Didn’t think I’d find you again.”

“Yes, well.” Vera dusted off her hands and stood up. “Didn’t think you’d know it was me. Wasn’t planning on this.” She crossed her arms, her finger tapping as she considered her situation. “You know I can’t let you live, now, that you’ve seen my face.”

“Yes well they’ll know it was you, won’t they?” Hirim sputtered. “After all, your outlaw brother tried to rob me!”

“He wasn’t an outlaw!” Vera retorted. “You killed him after a business deal with south!” 

“What kind of fool nonsense is that? You know your brother was an outlaw! And I’ve heard you're on your way of becoming one yourself, Ms. Edgefield!” Hirim spoke with speed. “Holding a family hostage so you could get a bounty? Jesus Christ, you are on thin ice already! I’m surprised Wilhem let you go!”

Vera’s eyebrow twitched. “I wasn’t gonna harm the family-”

“I think, killing their father in front of them, the children, did the job,” Hirim said with a sigh. “And you - who are you?” He looked over to Arthur. 

“A goddamn fool,” Arthur said. “You ain’t on good terms with Wilhem, like you said?” He glared at Vera. A cold fury gripped him. 

“I needed a scapegoat,” Vera defended herself. “You would have never agreed had I not have some kind of blackmail-”

“Tilly and Mary-Beth were never in trouble for gettin’ arrested, were they?” Arthur groaned. 

“No. I merely read your letters so I could form some kind of plan.” Vera began pacing. “Shit. Wilhem will know. I can’t be here right now. Silas - I leave it to you. I have to get myself in the public eye, somehow, where there are witnesses who can’t place me here.” 

Silas let out a snort, but shrugged. “I’ll be a bit, yet. You have time. Morgan was all I needed.”

“What about me?” Hirim shouted. “I’m innocent in all of this-”

Silas lifted his pistol, pulled the trigger, and Hirim was sent flying backwards in the chair as his brain splattered across the room. 

Vera only lifted her head and said darkly, “Thank you,” before darting out of the room. 

Arthur let out a soft curse. Things weren’t looking good for him.

“Well, Morgan,” Silas said, and flipped the pistol in his hand so the hilt was facing upwards. “Just you and me, now.” 

Before Arthur could shrug his hands out of the bindings, the pistol smacked his left side of his head, and stars greeted him.


	28. Chapter 28

_ Sadie _

They reached St. Denis early in the morning. The morning heat was too much for Sadie. She was sweating in her long sleeved shirt and she twisted her hair into a braid to lessen the warmth on the back of her neck. John had shrugged off his jacket and opted for short sleeves, though wore a jean vest that matched his worn pants. 

“I don’t know much about Vera,” John said, looking over the crowd on the train platform. “I don’t know where to begin looking.”

“She always dressed in nice clothing. I would assume somewhere elegant - maybe a hotel of some sort? Somewhere expensive?” Sadie had no idea, either. St. Denis was a large city where one could easily hide. 

“It’s a start,” John sighed. “Let’s go.” 

Sadie maneuvered her way through the crowds, never stopping to take in the sights St. Denis offered. There wasn’t time to look at the endless streets, the many shops, the restaurants - all that mattered was finding Arthur. 

Arthur’s tracks hadn’t led in the direction of Strawberry, that much was certain. They took a chance and headed directly to Valentine. Sadie had spotted Athena and the horse she had seen Vera ride. After some digging around Valentine and low key threats to the train teller, Sadie had figured out Vera and Arthur were headed to St. Denis.

She didn’t know why. Why Arthur would run off with Vera, of all people. They hadn’t even talked about Vera in the last few months and had never written about her, ever since the O’Driscoll episode. She hadn’t liked Vera from the start, should have pressured Arthur to stay away from her. Too late, now.

“The hotel won’t outright admit if Vera or Arthur have any rooms,” Sadie said as they made their way through the streets. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder, shifting the weight of her bag to her other shoulder. “But they might tell us if she’s around if we say we’re waiting for her. We’ll have to observe, less we draw any attention to ourselves. We’ll split up if we don’t find anything today or tomorrow.”

John nodded in agreement. Sadie knew he wasn’t all too happy leaving Abigail behind, and neither was Abigail. There had been a heated argument, a round of Abigail sobbing, which wasn’t all her fault. The baby and Arthur’s disappearance was a lot for her to take in. Before they left Abigail behind, she apologized for crying, blaming her pregnancy on her wild emotions, and had wished them luck in tracking down Arthur. 

“I’m sorry about you not bein’ there for the birth,” Sadie said quietly to him. 

John looked to the shop they were passing. People passed them on the sidewalk, paying them no attention. “I know. It’s not your fault. Hell, not even Arthur is to blame. He ran for a reason and I betcha it was to protect us. He just… I don’t know if he expected us to follow. Abigail will be fine, I’m sure of it.” 

“She will.” Sadie stopped and pointed at a two story hotel on the corner of the street. Elegant ladies dressed in silk dresses and men in suits walked in and out of it. “Let’s try there. We’ll act like we’re waiting for her.” 

As they walked in, they made their way around the tables until they sat at the bar. Heavy cigarette smoke lingered in the air and the bartender walked over to them. “What can I get you today?” the man asked.

“Well, two whiskeys, to start,” John replied.

“We actually waitin’ for our friend, she was supposed to meet us here,” Sadie said, adding a light sweetness to her voice. “Short girl with black hair. You seen her around here? Last name Edgefield.”

“Ah. yes, I’ve seen her around.” The bartender set two glasses out and poured a shot of whiskey in each. “Dunno when she’ll be back, though.” He slid the two glasses forward. 

“We are just fine waitin’ around,” Sadie said. She took a sip of the whiskey. 

They didn’t have to wait long. Sadie touched John’s arm and motioned with her head to the short woman walking down the steps, her arms wrapped through another’s. It wasn’t Arthur, but it  _ was _ Vera, dressed in a light blue gown and feathered hat. Sadie looked the other way as Vera escorted the man to the entrance of the hotel. Vera laughed at whatever the man said, then kissed him on the cheek. They parted ways, and Vera left the hotel. 

“Let’s go,” Sadie murmured to John and trailed out of the hotel. They kept their heads low as they followed Vera through the streets, waiting for the prime opportunity. 

“Follow my lead,” John said as Vera turned down a street less populated. He quickened his pace and put a hand on Vera’s arm, with Sadie on the other side. “Vera Edgefield! This is unexpected!” John said loudly. 

Sadie looped her arm through Vera’s and held tight. Vera paled at the two of them and her eyes flicked to John’s hand resting on his pistol. 

“I’ll scream,” Vera snapped at him. “Unhand me-”

“I won’t harm you if you tell us where Arthur is,” John replied with a deadly calm. “We know he left with you.”

Vera rolled her eyes. “I told him not to bring anyone with him.”

“He didn’t,” Sadie said, her grip tightening on the woman’s arm. “He left without tellin’ us anything. Where is he?”

Vera halted, pulling John and Sadie a stop. A few people passed by, leaving them alone. “He’s dead, if Silas had anything to do with him.” 

Dead. Sadie’s mouth dropped open at the word. He couldn’t-

“Silas?” John said, squinting his eyes at the name. He didn’t let Vera’s confession bother him. “Who is that?”

“You don’t know?” Vera said. “Unhand me, and I’ll tell you everything I know.” 

“Just like that?”

“I got what I wanted, but I don’t want you two following me. So, yes,” Vera scoffed. She jerked her arms out of their hold and took a step backwards. “I tried to hire Arthur for a job. It didn’t work, so I had to blackmail him into helping. He needed to get rid of someone for me. Silas - who claims Arthur raped some Eliza girl, has been working with me. I knew Silas had some morbid fascination with the van der Linde gang, but not like this. I left Arthur in his hands, in a warehouse east of here, out of St. Denis.” 

“Fuck, Vera,” Sadie cursed. Arthur had never talked about Silas. “You used him to do your dirty work, then left him to die?”

“He’s an outlaw,” Vera hissed. “As are you. In fact, I better march to Officer Wilhem and tell him who you are, John Marston.”

“Well, then.” John scratched his nose. “I guess that leaves me with no choice. You’re gonna take us to the warehouse, Edgefield, else I will straight out kill you here and now.”

“John-” Sadie protested, looking around. There were too many witnesses for this, they needed to keep a level head about this. 

Vera, despite this, grinned at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

John moved so fast before Sadie could even stop him. He stood in front of Vera, his pistol in his hands and pressed against her chin. His other hand had her arm twisted and he barked a mean laugh at her. Sadie chilled at his tone. She had never seen John so angry before.

“I been good,” John said, his voice like steel. A dangerous flicker shined in his eyes. “I been really good this last year. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. I lived by the law. I held back for the sake of bein’ good. You know I killed my first man when I was eleven? I have done it time and time again so I could be free of the law and escape with my freedom. You are no different than us, Vera, so don’t even think I’ll regret gettin’ rid of you. You ain’t innocent. You don’t deserve life anymore than I do.”

“Fine,” Vera choked out. Tears glistened in her eyes as John let go. She let out a gasp. “I’ll go with you. I have witnesses that will tell the law straight I was with them the entire night. No one will believe you when you say I was a part of this. They’ll believe you kidnapped me.”

“So be it. Let’s get moving, Edgefield,” John said, and offered his arm to her. 

Vera took it, scowling at him, and Sadie followed behind them as she walked. If Vera ran or did anything funny, Sadie would put a stop to it. She had to, even if it put her life on the line as well.

John’s coldness reminded her he  _ had _ been a dangerous outlaw and was capable in dangerous situations. She hadn’t seen that side of him, yet. 

They walked out of St. Denis and headed across the bridge. Nobody batted an eye at them. Just friends out for a walk, though by the glare on Vera’s face and the stoic look in John’s eyes, it was hard to believe they were friends. 

They went down the dusty streets, St. Denis looming farther and farther in the background. The chatter of St. Denis was all but gone, replaced by the silence of the farmland. A casual wind blew as they walked, their footsteps kicking up the red dirt of the street. 

“There,” Vera said bitterly. She pointed to a warehouse. 

Sadie’s heart beat faster as they neared, guns drawn and ears alert. It was too quiet as they entered. Vera held her hands up as John trailed behind her. Sadie went to the room where Vera pointed and kicked open the door. “Arthur?” she yelled into the room. A random cloud covered the sunlight, shrouding the room in shadows. 

The smell of blood tingled her nose as she nearly dropped her gun with a gasp. Three men lay sprawled on the ground, a puddle of blood soaking into the wood around them. There was so much blood. Sadie ran forward to the familiar form and pulled the man onto his back.

She let out a cry. “Arthur?” she sobbed, pressing her fingers to his neck, waiting for a pulse. She nearly crumbled when she felt it, a light feeling against her fingers. He was nearly unrecognizable; his nose was bent, his eyes red and swollen. Blood trailed down his face from a wound on his forehead, his nose, and a large cut across his lips. She patted a hand down his body, searching for any broken bones.

Vera whistled. “Well, looks like they got each other,” Vera said. “Sorry hun, looks like you’ll be without your outlaw-” her voice was cut off as John knocked his gun at the back of his head. She crumbled to the ground. 

“She ain’t leavin’ here,” John said, and grabbed a long piece of rope. He began tying her hands and legs.

“He’s alive,” Sadie said in a shaky voice. “I think his arm his broken, and he’s got awful bruising-”

Arthur stirred as her hand passed over his arm. Though his eyes didn’t open, he murmured through bloodied teeth, “Wilhem. Get Wilhem.”

“The police officer?” John said. “Are you crazy? They’ll arrest us, it’s a lady’s word against ours-”

“Wilhem will understand,” Arthur croaked out. “... Silas?” 

“He’s dead,” Sadie soothed, looking at the two men, both killed by a gunshot wound to the head. She didn’t know who was who. 

“Shit. Well, Sadie - stay here. I’ll get Wilhem and the doctor. If Wilhem arrests us, Arthur, I’ll…” John shook his head. “It’ll be an hour at most.” He left through the door, and Sadie was left alone with Arthur, two dead men, and an unconscious crazed woman. 

Sadie sobbed silently as she rested Arthur’s head on her lap. He was alive. Wounded, bruised, but alive. She brushed his hair back as he slept, worried he wouldn’t wake up again. Arthur’s past had found a way to him and she couldn’t have done anything about it. He would survive this, she knew it. 

She wasn’t a praying woman, but for the first time in her life, she said a tiny prayer. She was truly desperate. 

She became still as she heard horses and men outside, her breath tight in her throat. John was the first to enter, a grim look on his face. A taller fellow followed him, dressed in the blues of a policeman. The noise stirred Vera awake, and she stared with wide eyes at the newcomers. She sat up quickly. 

“Ms. Edgefield,” Wilhem exclaimed. Older, with white peppering his dark hair and a handlebar mustache, he took off his hat as he examined the scene before him. “I take it this is all your doing?”

“They kidnapped me,” Vera stuttered, lifting her hands for them to see. “This-”

“That’s Mr. Grove,” Wilhem cut her off, pointing to the man pushed to the side of the room. “You know I am aware of the history between him and your brother. And don’t forget I turned a blind eye when you murdered your bounty and held his family hostage to get him. He was wanted for petty theft, nothing more.”

“He was an outlaw!” Vera declared. 

“And so was your brother!” Wilhem roared back. He turned back and motioned for men to come inside. “There’s a man wounded. Escort him to the doctor’s wagon.” 

“That’s Arthur Morgan of the van der Linde gang!” Vera said in a rush. “Don’t waste your time.” 

Wilhem took a few steps forward and knelt in front of Vera, his eyes flaming. “As far as I’m aware,” Wilhem said pointing to Silas’ corpse, “That man there - who, I bet, was hired to do away with Grove - is Arthur Morgan. Dead. I’ll even have the papers write about it. Arthur Morgan is dead, and this man here-” he pointed to Arthur, who two men were lifting onto a cot, “is a man who tried to save Grove from his fate.” He stood back up and set his shoulders straight. “You are hereby under arrest, Veronica Edgefield, for murder.”

“But I didn’t lay a hand-” Vera sobbed. 

“No, but you were the one who did this. Your brother was the same. Manipulative, deceiving, and a murderer.” 

Sadie followed Arthur out of the room, her hands held to her chest. There was no sense staying behind. John followed her without a word, and they left Vera and the officer as they continued to argue. 

Sadie and John sat in the wagon with Arthur, the doctor leaning over and inspecting Arthur’s wounds, his eyebrows pressed together. The driver clicked his tongue and the wagon lurched forward, and they were off and down the road to St. Denis. 

“He’ll have to stay a day or two,” the doctor said to Sadie as they crossed the wooden bridge. “He’ll recover, though his wrist and arm is broken. Possibly his leg. Whatever happened, he took a beating.”

Sadie nodded and felt another rush of tears. She bit her lip to stop them. Her cowboy would live and that was all she could ask for. 


	29. Chapter 29

_Arthur_

Arthur had never yelled so much in his life. With each blow, each kick, he had wished for death to greet him. Yet it never did, and the endless taunts from Silas continued to torture him. In one wild moment, when Arthur had thought all was done for, Silas’ attention slipped and he looked elsewhere. Arthur reached over, grabbed Silas’ own pistol from his belt, and shot the man through his chin. 

Darkness greeted him then, only to be woken by Sadie mumbling something. Sadie? What was she doing there? Wasn’t he miles away from her? And, stranger yet - was she _praying?_

He faded once more, and through the jolts of pain and garbled voices, he didn’t awake for quite some time. When he did, an ache pounded in his head and the room was bright. Too bright, until he blinked several times and his eyes adjusted. The blankets felt like a bed of comforting, warm sunlight.

“So you’re awake,” a deep voice greeted him. “They tell me your name is Arthur Callahan.”

Arthur turned his head on the soft pillow and found an older police officer staring down at him. “That’s right.” Arthur ran his tongue over his dry lips. He wanted water. As if seeing Arthur’s predicament, the officer handed over a cup. Arthur scooted to a sitting position, grimacing as his ribs protested, and accepted the cup. He drank heartily, holding the cup in his left hand. His right, he noticed, was wrapped tightly and ached something awful.

“You can call me Wilhem. The way I see it, Arthur Morgan died yesterday,” Wilhem said. “Veronica Edgefield wasn’t well. This wasn’t the first time she’s manipulated people to get what she’s wanted. She’s gotten innocent people mixed in and killed before. If you say you are Callahan, then I’m going to take your word for it. The story is in this morning’s paper, if you want to read it.” He tossed a stack of papers on Arthur’s lap. Written in bold font on the front, END OF OUTLAW ARTHUR MORGAN. Arthur briefly skimmed the story over - Silas, aka Arthur Morgan, worked with Veronica Edgefield in a plot to murder Hirim Grove. 

“If you are who Vera said you were, Mr. Callahan, I want you to promise I will not see your face here in St. Denis again,” Wilhem stated. “Vera will be sent to prison. Once you are well enough to travel, you are to depart St. Denis.”

“Yes, sir,” Arthur murmured. He wouldn’t argue against it, nor ask anymore questions. Way he saw it, this was a second chance - he wasn’t going to ruin it.

“I think your brother and wife are waiting for you. Take care, Callahan. Heed my warning - I have friends who are not so keen on turning a blind eye.” Wilhem lifted a furry eyebrow in warning, then left.

Disbelief filled Arthur as he gripped the paper in his hand. It was too easy - yet the wounds on his body said otherwise. He supposed he should feel guilty about it being Vera locked up, and not him, but he supposed she had her own skeletons in her closet she hadn’t been all too honest about. In fact, he’d be happy never thinking of that woman again. He didn’t appreciate being blackmailed and taken for a fool. 

“Arthur!” Sadie said, striding into the room. She let out a half sob and settled on the chair beside his bed. John followed in and shut the door behind them. 

Sadie. John. Arthur reached over with his left hand and clasped it over Sadie’s, searching her brown eyes with his. Despite a relieved look on her face, the glint of tears and the weary curve of her mouth, she looked like she hadn’t slept a wink. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“What, you think we’d just let you run again?” John huffed and crossed his arms. His tired, frowning face mimicked Sadie’s. “You coulda told us.”

“She threatened Tilly and Mary-Beth. She knew where they lived,” Arthur said. “I couldn’t risk anythin’. I’m sorry, I really am. I... “ he shook his head and tightened his grip on Sadie’s hand. “I think I’m ready to put St. Denis behind me.”

“I have tickets for tomorrow,” John said. “Hate to rush you, but Abigail’s due any day. I don’t want to miss it.” He went over to Arthur’s side and clasped him on the shoulder. “I really am glad you’re alive, Arthur. I… I really couldn’t bare the thought of losin’ you. Take care. I’ll leave you be.”

“Thanks, John.” Arthur watched him go, then smiled grimly at Sadie. With as many kicks as Silas had laid on him, Arthur was surprised he wasn’t missing any teeth, though the cuts on his lips were tender. “I really didn’t mean to scare ya, Sadie.”

“I know. It turned out this way for the best. The world can finally forget about Arthur Morgan, too,” Sadie said, her voice light. “It’s just… I thought I lost you, too, when I saw you in that room. I couldn’t believe the blood…”

“I’m fine now. Alive, healthy even. Ain’t nothin’ gonna hold me back from returnin’ with you. In fact…” Arthur let go of her hand and pointed to his pants folded neatly on a chair across the room. “Hand that to me?” Once Sadie did, he dug through the pockets until he felt the cool metal against his fingers. “I was gonna ask you to marry you, back in Strawberry. Before I ran into Vera. I may not look like much, and I may not be much, either, but…” he held out the ring in his palm. “Will you marry me, Sadie Adler?”

“You’re barely awake, injured, and already proposin’,” Sadie chuckled. She reached over and took the ring from his palm. “Yes, Arthur Morgan, I will marry you, and happily so.” She leaned over and kissed him.

* * *

They left St. Denis in the afternoon the next day. The simple walk had been a struggle for Arthur, with his twisted ankle and bruised ribs. By the time he was sitting on the train, he was winded. Despite this, his hand interlocked with Sadie’s, he couldn’t wait until they returned home. 

Arthur and John left letters for Tilly and Mary-Beth, not wanting to meet them in person or appear to get cozy in St. Denis. The less attention on them, the better. However they needed to know Arthur Morgan was not truly dead, as the papers stated. All that mattered is they were safe, and welcome to visit Ambarino if they so wished. 

As night fell, the stars and moon bright against the night sky, John snored away in the train seat behind them as the train chugged along. Sadie rested her head on Arthur’s shoulder, humming underneath her breath. Arthur turned his head and pressed a kiss against her hair. 

“If my memory recalls correctly,” Arthur said, keeping his voice quiet as to not wake the other travelers, “I heard you prayin’.”

“I was… desperate. It seemed to work. Now I ain’t gonna be goin’ to church every Sunday, so don’t you worry.” Sadie readjusted her head. “God sure didn’t save Jake. Didn’t save my daughter. Didn’t save me from the O’Driscolls. I was saved because of _you_. I love you, Arthur, and that’s all I need.” 

“Thank you.” Arthur closed his eyes and rested his head against hers. “Sadie?”

“Hmm?”

“I was thinkin’... I need to say goodbye. To Eliza, to Isaac. Their graves are several states away, but I need closure. Would you be willin’ to make the trip with me? John is more than capable of takin’ care of the farm on his own. He can handle it - it’ll give a chance for John and Abigail to be a family without us there, too.”

“How long you thinkin’ of staying away?” 

“Months, maybe. I could show you Oregon, where I grew up. Where I buried my mother.” He waited patiently for her to respond. It was a big decision on his part - but he wasn’t running this time. They’d return to Ambarino and settle, once and for all. 

“I’ll go with you,” she said after mere moments. “And when we return - we’ll start our life, our family.” She lifted her head and turned to him, her chocolate eyes full of warmth. “As long as you’re with me, Arthur, I’m home.” 

* * *

John’s desperation to return home was obvious. Short tempered and silent, he followed the wagon Arthur sat in, Athena and Bob tied behind them. Sadie led the wagon while Arthur tried to get comfortable in the back. 

As they passed through the mountainside, the air colder and fresher, and Colter popped into view, Arthur told John, “You can ride ahead, you know. We’ll meet ya there.”

John didn’t blink twice. He spurred his horse forward and galloped down the road.

“Do you think Abigail’s had her baby?” Arthur asked Sadie. 

“Oh, I’m sure. She was ready any day before we left. Poor John, though. He had been so excited.”

“First I run - so they delay getting married. Then I run again - so John can’t be with Abigail.” Arthur let out a long groan. “Do you think they gonna hold it against me?”

“If they do, they wouldn’t have bothered helping the second time,” Sadie shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Abigail was downright in tears when we learned you ran again. Not _at_ you, mind you. She was worried sick you was in some sort of trouble.”

“She’s always been dear to me,” Arthur said softly. 

“I know. Look, Arthur!” Sadie pointed as they neared the Berry house. Abigail sat in a chair outside, while John held a bundle in his arms. Sadie stopped the wagon a few feet away from them and hopped out, then went to support Arthur as he hobbled off the wagon.

“It’s a girl,” John beamed, holding the dark haired baby for them to see. “We’ve named her Gracie.”

“She’s adorable,” Sadie said, holding a hand to her mouth. 

Arthur hadn’t been around many babies, except little Jack and Isaac. Despite the baby being a bit wrinkly, he was inclined to agree with Sadie. He held out a finger to the wide eyed Gracie and gave the little girl a smile. “Hello, Gracie.” He then held out a hand to Abigail and pulled her up into a hug. “I’m proud of ya.”

“Thank you,” Abigail said, hugging him tightly. “You look like a mess, but I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

“More than okay, now that I’m back.”

“You gonna be stayin’ this time?” 

“Well…” Arthur looked to Sadie. “Maybe. Let’s talk about this, over dinner.” 

“I swear, Arthur,” Abigail said, rolling her eyes. “It’s always one thing or another with you. If I hear you’re gonna go on some wild goose chase…”

“It’s not, Abigail. You’ll understand. Let’s head home, shall we?” 

_A Year or So Later_

There couldn’t have been a more perfect day to return to Ambarino and the lush, rolling mountains. The summer air was cooler in the higher elevations, with a light wind kissing the branches of the evergreens. Deer pranced throughout the forest, skittish of the newcomers riding along the well worn path. In the distance, the deep church bell rang, the sound resonating throughout the land. 

Colter, nearly two years since it was rebuilt, had grown into a small, profitable town, nearly rival to Strawberry. Children rushed to the streets in a last minute attempt to get to the school. Fresh new houses were built here and there throughout the land, full of new families and new dreams. Several ladies walked on the dusty street to the general store, now complete with a hand painted sign on the front of the building. 

Arthur and Sadie didn’t bother to stop in Colter. In fact, Arthur pressured Athena to move quickly through the town, Sadie following him from behind. His thoughts were on the newspaper he had seen in Strawberry not two days ago, a newspaper that had nearly crushed all he knew. 

VAN DER LINDE AND THE END OF HOSEA MATTHEWS - a distinct, long title that had made Arthur see stars. There had been an explosion - not only had Hosea been caught in it, the Pinkertons had, as well. An explosion on a ferry of all places. It had been such an explosion, barely any bodies have been found. Yet there were witnesses confirming Agent Milton and Agent Ross had been on that ferry, as well as Hosea Matthews of the van der Linde gang. No mention of Lenny Summers, which was a small relief.

But still - that damn old bastard. Arthur had known Hosea had been planning something, but Hosea had been mum about the whole thing. Even Lenny had. Why now? It frustrated Arthur to no end. 

He didn’t bother to comprehend the new stable being built at the end of Colter, didn’t bother to wave hello to George Berry as he passed him by. He had to get home, to John and Abigail, little Jack and Gracie. 

There wasn’t time to appreciate Adler ranch as they approached. Arthur galloped to the front of the house, hopped off, then barged into the house. He had to know John and Abigail were safe. 

He stopped stone cold in the kitchen, mouth agape.

“Why, Arthur, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Hosea said, sipping on a cup of tea in front of the fireplace. A knowing smile curved on his lips as he set the tea aside on the coffee table.

“You…” Arthur stated. “How…?” 

“Lots of skillful planning. I won’t go into details, but, Pinkertons are officially off our trail,” Hosea said. “How about you follow the path south? Got some men there who need some help building John’s house. Maybe with your help, they’ll be able to finish today.”

“I am downright confused,” Arthur stuttered out. “You alive. And everyone’s okay?”

Hosea stood and reached out a hand. “Yes. Even Lenny.”

Arthur grabbed his hand and closed the handshake with his left, holding tight. “You got no idea how happy I am to see you, Hosea.”

“And you, Arthur. I had wanted to catch you before you left for Oregon, and, well, it didn’t work out that way. I trust the money John wired you helped out?” 

Arthur let go of Hosea’s hand and put his hands in his pockets. He shook his head, still bewildered. He heard Abigail’s voice; she must have found Sadie outside. “Immensely. Sadie and I was able to afford hotels and then some. I just don’t understand how he got the money, he wouldn’t say.” 

“It’s the Blackwater money - Lenny and I retrieved it. We’ve split it with the gang. Your share, I must say, is quite…” Hosea drifted off with a shrug and a smile. “Well, it’s in your room. You earned it. Now - the real important part. Where’s my granddaughter?” 

A low laugh rumbled in Arthur’s chest and he motioned with his head to the door. “She can’t wait to meet you.” 

Hosea and Arthur exited the home and walked over to the lush, overflowing garden where Abigail and Sadie stood conversing. Abigail beamed when she caught sight of Arthur, holding his daughter in her arms. Arthur couldn’t help but notice Abigail’s rounded belly. “Oh, Arthur,” Abigail said, “She’s so beautiful. I can’t believe you waited so long to return home.”

“It’s my fault,” Sadie said with a shrug. She brushed a loving finger on her daughter’s cheek, asleep in Abigail’s arms. “I wasn’t keen on travelin’ so soon after her birth.” 

“I understand that fine. John, Lenny, Charles, Sean - they’re all that way. We can start walkin’. Can you pick up Gracie, Arthur? I’m not quite willin’ to give her up yet,” Abigail grinned, looking down at his daughter. 

Abigail had arranged it all. Mary-Beth arrived with her multiple copies of her published books, a proud new author. Tilly arrived with her new husband, a well mannered, proper man, who loved her without question. Sean and Karen arrived as a pair, still ever strong and Karen sporting a well rounded belly as well. They had plans to travel west to settle where they might raise their child proper. Arthur still had doubts about Sean - the kid still had growing up to do. He hoped, for Karen’s and the baby’s sake, all would turn out well.

Charles had been there for several weeks, helping John with the new house. He had a few somber stories to tell of his adventures, dealing with the Wapiti tribe. The past two years had been hard for him, it was plain to see. Lenny worked as a farmhand on a ranch in Big Valley, his work with Hosea completed. Arthur doubted Bill had even been invited. 

Javier, to everyone’s surprise, showed up as well, guitar in hand, with a promise to only stay one or two nights. Pearson didn’t show, happily married and settled in Rhodes, but he sent his best wishes. It was the same as Miss Grimshaw - she didn’t have the heart to travel far. Uncle and Swanson didn’t show, either. There hadn’t been any news of Molly, either. 

Later that night, everyone surrounded the nearby campfire, the two youngest children tucked away in their cribs. Drinks were passed around and Javier strummed away on his guitar, his light voice blessing the air with beautiful melodies. 

One last, final gathering of the van der Linde gang before everyone went their own chosen ways. 

Arthur held Sadie close, listening to the wild stories of the gang and their adventures over the past two years. He planted a kiss on Sadie’s cheek, thinking back to their travels to and from Oregon. It had been a wild ride in itself - a month after they started on their adventure, Sadie found out she was pregnant. Despite the two of them being over the moon, they had a choice to make: return to Ambarino, or continue on their journey.

They chose to continue, once they had enough money from what John sent them. They were married somewhere along the way, the ceremony private. They hadn’t needed a bigger wedding to prove their love to another; they had each other, and that’s what had mattered.

Arthur finally closed the door to Eliza and Isaac, visiting their graves one last time. He would always treasure and love them. He found his mother’s grave, forgotten in an abandoned graveyard, and left the flowers she had always loved by her cross. 

He had burned his father’s hat that same night. He wouldn’t follow his father’s footsteps anymore. Neither would he live in Dutch’s shadow. That, too, was behind him. 

Arthur looked around the campfire, his heart full at the sight of the happy faces. John caught his eye - John, a soon to be a father once again. Never would Arthur have thought little Johnny Martson would grow up and be responsible, but here he was, wholly devoted and loving to Abigail and his family. 

Arthur couldn’t have asked for a better family or home. 

As he looked to Sadie, surrounded by his friends, he knew. This truly was, without a doubt, the place he was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, ya'll... thank you SO much for reading and reviewing, every single one of you. I love you all, seriously, it means so much to me. I loved writing another adventure for Sadie and Arthur, and I hope you all loved reading it. <3 
> 
> Take care!

**Author's Note:**

> Had an idea, wrote a basic outline, and pumped out two chapters. I think I can work with this.


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